Supremacy
by Roselynne Summers
Summary: With the death of Peter and Kate, drastic changes are shifting the balance of power among the multiple forces at work in Beacon Hills. UPDATED: Stiles slowly recovers from his kidnapping, Victoria is intent on having the perfect Christmas, Sherriff Stilinski finds Stiles
1. Haunted

_Supremacy _

_By: Roselynne Summers_

Synopsis: With the death of Peter and Kate, drastic changes are shifting the balance of power among the multiple forces at work in Beacon Hills. Scott, feeling betrayed by Derek, turns to Stiles for help. Stiles gets more involved in Werewolf affairs than ever, and stumbles upon a coming event that will change the world. This fic begins where the first season left off.

Rating: T, will go up to M in a few chapters.

Spoilers: For those of you who want to know the pairings, direction, etc. of this story please see the spoiler section at the end of this chapter. I don't like to read spoilers, but I sometimes can't help myself when they're at the very front of the page.

Author's Note: I hope you enjoy this fic, I am writing this in my spare time so if there is a typo or something is not explained properly, just let me know and I'll fix it. Thanks!

P.S. I don't own Teen Wolf.

X-X-X-X

Chapter One

_Haunted_

"_These violent delights have violent ends_

_And in their triumph die, like fire and powder_

_Which, as they kiss, consume"_

_ - William Shakespeare_

The way she felt did not seem natural. Her hand was warm, but completely limp. If her touch were cold he would almost immediately have assumed that she was dead. Warmth was the only indication that she was alive, that along with her heart monitor signifying a slow but steady beat. He could have done something to help her, if he were only a few seconds earlier. Perhaps if he were more powerful, more calculated in his actions, more honest with her, perhaps she would not be bruised and battered and barely alive.

The purple and black splotches along her arms broke his heart. The deep gash in her left side cut him nearly as deeply as she had been wounded. Granted, it had only been two days since the attack on her life. Only two days since Peter Hale was executed at the hands of his nephew. Only two days since that nephew had betrayed his best friend.

As Stiles sat with Lydia's hand in his, looking at her pale, yet perfect face, he could only think about two things: her wounds, and his findings from his research. Not that he needed the incentive dive deeper into Werewolf lore, but Scott needed him now that Derek was out of the picture. The conclusion about Lydia's condition was perplexing to him, but he had a definite answer. No matter what Allison, Scott, or Jackson asked, the answer would stay between him and Lydia.

Stiles released Lydia's hand and stood up. He leaned down, putting his lips mere centimeters from her ear, and whispered softly.

"I know what you are."

X-X-X-X

"Are you still seeing Scott McCall?"

Victoria's words were cold and calculated. She stared at her daughter, her cool blues enflamed in frustration. Allison sat at her kitchen table, ordered there by her father shortly after her grandfather arrived, while her mother interrogated her.

"I'm confused, mom," Allison replied, "Because I see him every day at school."

Her grandfather, Gerard, scoffed. He had been in their house for no more than 15 minutes and his utter disgust towards Werewolves was clear.

"Allison," her father's voice was the only calm one in the room, "I know what you think you saw. You think Scott was defending you, and honestly I believe he was. But that doesn't change the fact that Scott is a Werewolf and needs to be contained."

"Exterminated." Gerard corrected, "Chris, you should know by now that there are no safe Werewolves or safe alternatives to killing them."

"You are not going to kill a Werewolf who hasn't harmed a human," Victoria shrilled, "Now, I don't like the boy's condition but he, along with Derek Hale, are no danger."

Gerard eyed his daughter, "Know your place, you chose your path a long time ago."

"Because I don't approve of killing for the hell of it!"

"And what happens when Hale builds another pack? They're predators, they kill, and if we do not eradicate them they will rise up and resort to their true ways."

Chris stepped between Victoria and Gerard. The two had released their focus on Allison and were standing aggressively toward one another.

"We go by the Code," Chris was stern in his words, as if he were the final voice, "The Code that the Council, which you serve on, drafted to prevent killing innocents. We will take Scott, contain him, and try to cure him."

Allison stood from her seat, "Cure him?"

Gerard turned his focus to Allison, "Know your place. You are not a hunter yet."

"It looks like all women have a place in your head, pop." Allison folded her arms and glared at her grandfather. The man who she once adored was changing drastically in her eyes.

"Chris," Victoria put her hand on the small of Chris's back, "Peter is dead, Scott can't be cured."

Allison interjected again, "How can a Werewolf be cured?"

Gerard scoffed again, but did not say anything. Victoria turned to her daughter, "If your grandfather will let me practice my _role _as historian, I can tell you." She turned her eyes to Gerard, who flicked his hand to signal she could speak, "There are reports that claim Werewolves can be cured of their condition by a mix of wolfesbane and their inflictor's blood. But if the mixture isn't perfect, and the Werewolf is not strong enough, then it will die. It also has to be given while in Werewolf form, which is why the curing process is very difficult."

"The Code prohibits curative attempts due to the low success rate," Gerard said, "Your father must know that, since he holds the Code so dear."

Chris snapped back at Gerard, disgust seeping from every word. Before she could ask another question the three adults were in a shouting match. The loud noise made her thoughts run through her head much faster than they would have normally. If Scott knew the curing process would kill him, then would he even want to try? And Derek must have known that cure is lethal, that is why he would not cure Scott.

Allison watched the adults, voices maxed out and hands flying in rage, and she took her opportunity to return to her room. As soon as she shut her door she turned on her iMac, logged on to Skype, and called the one person who needed this information the most.

X-X-X-X

"Honey, I'm home." Stiles called as he entered the half-burned house that Derek chose to stay in. He walked over creaking floor boards and closer to the steps in the center of the foyer.

Derek appeared from what was once the living room, and now was an open-roofed charred reminder of the tragedy that occurred there. Derek's hair was, as always, gelled up. His five-o'clock shadow covered his face. And, as is common with Derek Hale, his jaws were clenched to prevent him from looking happy.

"Out."

Stiles jumped in shock, Derek's approach had been silent.

"C'mon, I don't get the dramatic jump from the top of the stairs welcome, or do you save that for Jackson?"

"Out."

Stiles nodded, "Eloquent as always. I need to talk to you."

Derek leaned against the open doorway, arms and feet crossed. He tilted his head a few degrees to the right.

"I'm going to take that head tilt as permission for me to talk." Stiles leaned against the stairway to mock Derek's pose, "Our relationship has become so tangled that I understand you clenching and unclenching your jaw is a signal that you're interested."

"Talk before I hurt you."

"You act all big, bad, alpha-ey, but you're actually looking out for us all. You scared the shit out of Jackson the other night so I'm sure he's never going to try to be a Werewolf again."

Derek and Stiles stared at one another for a moment.

"No response?" Stiles questioned, "No, 'Hey I'm Mr. Broody and I don't care about anyone but myself'?"

"Point?"

Stiles grinned, "I knew it you big—" Derek interrupted his sentence by yanking him from his place and throwing him up against the wall. Derek's face was so close to Stiles' that their noses almost touched.

"I'm impatient," Derek growled, "Get to the point or get out."

"You smell so clean." Stiles observed.

"What?" Derek backed up, his brooding face turned to a confused one.

"I mean this place has no plumbing or electricity and you're always so clean. Where do you shower? Don't tell me to wade around in the river."

Derek grabbed Stiles in an effort to throw him out.

"Okay, okay, okay! No small talk, we're not friends even though I saved your life, blah blah. You can return to brooding in just a second."

Derek removed his hand from around Stiles' arm.

"An Alpha's instinct is to build his pack. You had a willing person who wanted to join you. That means something is coming that you don't want Jackson involved in. I'm not a genius but that's the only thing I can think of."

"Out."

"Derek, you need to tell Scott," Stiles stated. "You need to tell him that you didn't cure him because you knew it would kill him."

Derek cocked his head to the side again. This boy, though annoying, always knew more than he should.

"Honestly," Derek pressed Stiles back up against the wall, "your constant prying into things that don't involve you drives me insane. Let Scott believe what he will. I told you three times to get out of my house, which is three more times than I usually tell people who intrude."

"You know I'm much more of a movie and dinner date kind of guy, not a slam me up against the wall and have your way with me type of guy. I'm not easy, Derek." Stiles grinned and winked at the irritable man. He loved getting under his skin because, now more than ever, Derek would not hurt him or anyone else.

Within the next two seconds Stiles was cleaning dirt off of his jeans, because Derek threw him out of the house and slammed the door.

"Gerard Argent is here, at Allison's house. Something is going to go down, Derek. You need us. Whatever's coming, whatever you're preparing for… it's big. I can feel it. You don't have to do this alone."

Stiles waited for a moment before returning to his Jeep. Despite Derek's irrationally angry mannerisms and his deliberate attempts to alienate himself from anyone who matters, Derek cared. Stiles tried not to taint his view of the man with pity, but he lost his whole family due to one wild Hunter. And if what Allison said was true, Kate was someone he cared for very deeply. That kind of betrayal would mess up even someone of the strongest will, and Stiles desperately wanted to fix Derek. He didn't know why, but this encounter only heightened his need to find out what was coming.

He laughed before he started his car. Derek was the strong one, the driven one. Stiles knew he couldn't physically help Derek, but he needed someone to confide in…even if that someone was him. He dialed Allison's number before driving off, and shouted one last farewell through his window.

"I love you too, Miguel!"

Derek watched Stiles drive off through the broken upstairs window, what was once his sister's bedroom. He shook his head, and nearly grinned. He did not have the time to grin; he had an appointment to keep.

X-X-X-X

_Spoilers_

Pairings: This fic will be heavily focused on Derek and Stiles, with other pairings including Scott/Allison, Lydia with an original character, and Jackson with an original character. Other pairings will occur but will not be a primary focus.

Direction: This story will begin in Beacon Hills, but will move on to the world-stage. Though Teen Wolf is a fantasy, this story will go much deeper into the genre and there will be many more supernatural characteristics outside of Werewolf lore. Beacon Hills will be a primary location for this story, but it will not be the only location the characters will be exposed to.


	2. What You Want

GloomyPearl: I'll be posting one or two chapters a week, possibly more if my time allows. Thanks for the review!

Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Please review if you like this one or if you have any constructive criticism!

_Chapter Two_

_What You Want_

Patience was not a virtue Derek was well versed in. He had been standing in the most heavily wooded area of Grove Hill Park just outside of Beacon Hills for nearly an hour. His hands were tucked in his pockets, his feet planted in the same spot, breathing steadily in and out, just waiting for his _contact_. She was never late, and, though she had a tendency for waiting around in dark shadows, she always made herself announced.

Derek exhaled loudly, partially out of frustration. Oddly, the time was passing by rather quickly with the thoughts running through his head. He knew he should be more focused on this woman, on her identity, on her motives, but he couldn't help but think about Stiles.

_You don't have to do this alone_.

Stiles had no idea what he was saying, what he was committing himself to. Even worse, the plurality of his statement meant Scott, Allison, and probably Jackson would be involved too. Scott could defend himself; Scott could stand at his side, but not the others. They were kids, seventeen year olds with no idea of the severity of the situation. Derek's distaste for Stiles ran very deep under his skin, but the thought of Stiles getting hurt angered Derek to no end. He had shared some of the most intense moments of his life with Stiles. It still meant something, despite the fact most of those moments were directly related to him pushing or hitting the frail boy. Maybe he didn't need to do this alone, whatever this turned out to be.

"Lost in thought?" said the precise voice that he had grown used to hearing over the past few months.

"It took you long enough."

"Sorry, I had some unexpected business to attend to."

Derek turned to the source of the voice.

"No, no," the voice warned, "you know you're not allowed to see me."

Derek sighed, "What do you need to tell me? And please be specific, these run-arounds are wasting my time."

It was silent for a moment despite from some rustling sounds. The woman was obviously human due to her scent and her fidgeting. Derek knew her scent, but had not been exposed to it enough to connect it to a face.

"These violent delights have violent ends, Derek."

"Shakespeare again?"

"Truth."

"And what is that truth?"

"Build your pack. You did as instructed and killed Peter Hale, which was smart. But now you need to exercise your strength as the Alpha and build your pack. There are others out there who can help you when the time comes, but until then you need your own support. Scott will not be enough."

"Not enough for what?"

Derek heard footsteps, soft on the damp leaves of the park. He exhaled heavily and clenched his jaw. Anger began to flood through his body. He could hear her heels pressing on the leaves that littered the ground before the balls of her feet touched down behind them. She was backing away.

"I'm not cursing a human, I won't."

"Then you will be alone when they come."

"They? The Argents?"

"No, they're much, much worse."

"How do you know all of this?"

"George Mallory once said that the highest of the world's mountains has to make but a single gesture of magnificence to be the lord of all, vast in unchallenged and isolated supremacy. Not everyone can attain supremacy with a single gesture, Derek. Sometimes you have to take drastic measures."

"I don't want supremacy."

"But they do. Heed my advice Derek."

The footsteps became rushed. The woman was leaving.

"Wait! I need your help! Who is Gerard Argent?"

Derek's question was too late; she was gone. In any normal circumstance Derek would have pursued her, caught her, and interrogated her until he got the answers he needed. But this woman was not ordinary. Her scent had a fragrance of power and enlightenment, her voice commanded respect, and she had proved a worthy resource to him since his sister had died. She was the one who directed him back to Beacon Hills, she was the one who told him about Scott's condition, she was responsible for so many things. An invisible hand guiding these events, Derek felt as though she was the director and he was merely following her instructions.

No matter his questions, he had his next step in mind: build a pack.

X-X-X-X

Scott jumped in shock when his locker door slammed in front of his face. Behind the once open door stood Allison. Her dark hair hung in loose curls that framed the amused expression on her face.

"Is my big, bad Werewolf scared?" As she whispered the words she leaned in close to his body. She slid her hands around his neck, intertwining her fingers on the back of it. Scott grinned and put his arms around her waist.

"You're handling this surprisingly well."

Allison planted a quick kiss on Scott's lips before she withdrew from his embrace. She slid her hand from his neck down to grab his hand before they began walking down the hallway.

"What do you mean?"

"It's just if I had known I would be your big, bad Werewolf I would have told you sooner. I feel bad that I didn't."

"I'm glad you didn't, honestly."

Scott stopped mid stride and turned to his girlfriend.

"Sorry, I feel like this is going to be a need-to-look-in-the-eyes kind of moment."

Allison smiled locked glances with Scott. His expression was one of confusion, not like it was unordinary for him to be confused. Scott, though half of the Werewolf population in this town, was not the smartest or most receptive person she knew. Lydia referred to him as adorably dubious.

"So before I realized my aunt was a psychopath I talked to her about that night in the school. I told her about how weak I felt and she promised to make me stronger. I know she was insane, but she did. She helped me be more confident and feel more powerful. If I had known you were a Werewolf from the start I probably wouldn't feel like I do now."

"How do you feel now?"

"Powerful, like I can take care of myself."

"And how would you have felt if I told you sooner?"

"Like the Peach to your Mario, the damsel in distress. These past few months haven't been easy, and they probably could have turned out much better..."

"But?"

Allison put her put her hands on Scott's cheek. His face was contorted like he was bracing for bad news, and she had the instant instinct to reassure him. She pulled his face down close to hers.

"But I'm happy, healthy, and in love. That's all that matters."

Scott grinned, "Okay. Me too." Allison and Scott locked their lips together for another moment, which was abruptly interrupted by Scott's groaning stomach.

Allison laughed against his lips, "I think you need to eat."

"No, no, no, I never need to eat again if we can stay like this."

"I need you well fed, if you're weak you won't be as fun when you take my clothes off."

Scott's eyes widened and a slightly evil smirk arched across his face before he said: "Lunch time."

X-X-X-X

"Just tell me this whole tortured 'Change me! I need it!' act is finally over."

Jackson glared at Stiles from across the table.

"What?" Stiles said through a half-full mouth of curly fries, "No douchetastically dick of a comment about driving a Porche instead of a Honda?"

Jackson exhaled heavily, "Back off, Stiles."

"All I'm saying is it's not meant to be, and you're better off because of it." Stiles swallowed and leaned forward, "You're smart, athletic, and whatever. You don't need the bite to be special."

Jackson eyed Stiles. He leaned forward, closing the distance between him and Stiles. "What's your angle here, huh? You're not going to change my mind, I will get that goddamn bite one way or another."

"Do you know how hard it was for me to compliment you? Projectile vomiting ninja stars would have felt better. Show some appreciation."

Jackson's eyes narrowed. He scoffed, slammed his back against his chair, and tangled his hands in his hair. "Jesus, Stiles. I just..."

"I know, I hate you too," Stiles nodded and then grinned, "but we're all we've got, man. We don't have to love each other, but trust me, we're in this together."

Jackson nodded and smiled as Allison and Scott took their seats beside them.

"A smile?" Allison sat her tray down beside Stiles. Scott sat across from her, "That's a nice surprise. And it doesn't even look like you're plotting something."

"Nothing at all," Jackson cut his eyes to Scott and to Stiles, "Allison, I need to tell you something."

"Okay?"

She had no idea what he had been up to over the previous few weeks. The things he did to Scott. How vehemently he tried to obtain that bite. As he was telling her he knew it probably wasn't the best idea, but it felt good to have everyone at the table know.

"I know you probably think I'm an asshole—"

"Nope," Allison interrupted, "I think you were confused, just like we all have been. Honestly, I'm ready to put this behind us."

"That's not exactly possible," Stiles stated.

"I mean the emotional part. Of course these things happened, but for whatever reason they happened to us. Honestly, my family nearly killed Scott, Jackson nearly got him killed too, and Scott could have killed all of us at some point…who cares anymore? We're together and let's just be thankful for that."

The boys eyed each other awkwardly for a moment.

Allison sighed, "This is why I need Lydia."

"How's she doing?" Jackson asked, "I haven't really had the time or gut to go see her."

"She's doing great," Allison optimistically chimed, "I mean, she's still asleep but they've ruled out the possibility of her being in a coma. Her parents said that the doctors say she's actually fine, but her body is healing. They said it's better she's like this for now because she'll heal faster."

"That's a bright outlook on her stupor," Jackson barked.

"Sensitive as always, right Sunshine?"

"Stupor, Stiles, stupor," Jackson attested, "it's a type of catatonia."

"All pessimism aside," Allison interrupted, "I'm sure she'll be fine."

"I'm sorry," Jackson explained, "I'm just still a little on edge. I'm not handling this anywhere near as well as you three are."

"I just got a compliment from Jackson Whittemore, my oh my!"

"Stiles, stop." Scott moaned, "You're handling this fine, Jackson."

Allison grabbed Jackson's hand from across the table, "I'm doing the best I can. And being cheery, even if it is obnoxious, is how I'm choosing to handle this."

Jackson nodded in agreement, "It'll balance me out, thanks."

"So what now?" Scott questioned. The fact that they could sit down at a table together and actually be able to speak without an outburst of post-traumatic stress is a feat that should have taken weeks. But, there were still plenty of unanswered questions.

"What do you mean?" Allison eyed her boyfriend.

"What do we do? There's still a lot to figure out," Scott leaned in and lowered his voice to a whisper, "like why did Derek kill the Alpha instead of curing me? What is your dad going to do about me and Derek now?"

Allison and Stiles knew the answer, or at least information that would help uncover them. But they had both agreed to keep Scott out of it for fear he would rush headfirst into something that could hurt him. Allison put her hand on Stiles' leg; she knew it was hard for him to lie to his best friend.

"We take it as it comes," Jackson said, breaking the somewhat awkward silence that had surfaced, "right now I would really like to just take it easy. We still have lacrosse to exhaust us."

Scott and Jackson began to talk about the upcoming state championship. Stiles shared a serious glance with Allison before she looked away toward the cafeteria's open door to the hallway. Standing in the door, eyes fixated on her, was her grandfather.

"Shit." She whispered under her breath. Stiles leaned in to her, Jackson and Scott were still distracted, "Remember the man who wants to kill every Werewolf in sight?'

"The sexist one, right, because there's so many I get them confused."

"Shut up!" Allison looked around and hid her face, "He's standing in the doorway, staring at me."

Allison immediately stood and headed out of the cafeteria through another exit. Scott rose up to go after her, but was sat back down by Stiles.

"What's the matter with her, is she okay?" Scott interrogated.

"Of course she's okay! Why wouldn't she be! It's not like there's an Alpha wolf trying to kill her or anything! Just girl problems, son, calm down." Stiles words were so rushed that Jackson and Scott only understood pieces of it.

"Girl problems?" They asked.

"Girl problems!" Stiles exclaimed. He turned his eyes back to the doorway. The silver haired, yet surprisingly buff man was still standing in the doorway. If his eyes were guns, Scott would have had two bullet holes in the back of his head.

X-X-X-X

Stiles parked his Jeep outside of Derek's house. After seeing Gerard, Derek was the only person Stiles could think about. If Gerard was going to try to kill Scott, Derek could stop him. Derek would stop him.

"Derek!" Stiles threw the door to the charred remains open, "Derek!"

Where was he? Stiles rushed through all of the rooms on the first floor and out through the burnt down wall at the back of the house. Stiles ran back to the front door and peered out of it. Not surprisingly, Derek's car was not there.

"Genius, Stiles, no car no Derek."

Stiles sat down on the steps and cupped his face in his hands. That look on Gerard's face. He wanted Scott dead. Maybe he wanted them all dead. And Allison! Stiles felt horrible for leaving the school before checking on her. Scott would be so angry with them both for keeping this secret from him, and even angrier at Stiles for involving Derek. Scott made it very clear the night after Peter Hale died that he had no desire to ever see Derek again.

Stiles propped his arms on his knees and looked nervously around the house. For a half-incinerated haunting ground, it was especially silent. There were no sounds typical of old, or damaged houses. No creaking. No groaning. Just silence. Driven nearly insane by sitting still, Stiles jumped from place on the stairs. He paced around the foyer for nearly twenty minutes before he stopped and glanced up the stairs.

He had never been up there. Scott had never been up there, or never said he had. No one had been up there. Except Derek. Derek had been up there. Derek's long-jump perch was up there. Maybe that was where Derek's things were. Maybe that was where the hypothetical shower was. Maybe that was where all the secrets of all the Werewolves that had ever existed rested. Stiles stopped himself. His train of thought, though normally fast paced and skipped-beat just like that, was leading to him to once place: up the stairs. If Derek came home and he was up there, Derek would probably hit him harder than he ever had before.

Regardless, Stiles was in the upstairs hallway before he knew it. Unsurprisingly, most of the second floor had collapsed. Only two rooms remained intact. The first was on the left side of the stairway, the room above the living room. It was mostly empty, but there was a window with a circular hole in one of its panes.

"That's his spy corner," Stiles said to himself.

The room, unknown to Stiles, used to be Laura Hale's. The room Stiles went to next, the only other room intact, was very apparently Derek's. He opened the black door, burned just like everything in the house, and entered. His feet rested on a large throw rug covering the dirty, once hardwood floors. There was a dresser, which looked relatively new, a closet with Derek's clothes, a simple twin bed, and a bedside table. On the table was a book written in French and a used candle. Stiles opened the bedside table's top drawer and found a small collection of ragged, torn, and stained pictures.

His family…his oddly photogenic, strong jawboned family. It was a tattered family history small enough to fit in a bedside drawer, but what was likely Derek's only connection to his apparently large family. They looked so happy. Stiles kept shifting through the pictures. He saw Peter Hale playing with children that were likely his own, what had to be Derek's parents kissing, and a family photo that caught his eye. He counted the people in it: 36. The police report said 8 people died in the fire. That meant there were 25 Hales unaccounted for.

Stiles sighed and moved on to the next picture. In it, a young woman with long dark hair was hugging someone. The boy she was hugging was younger than her, with flat hair, no facial hair, narrow shoulders and a lanky body. If you added hair gel, a five-o'clock shadow, 50 pounds of muscle, darker hued clothes and a scowl the boy would be identical to Derek. Stiles looked around the room and placed the pictures back into the drawer.

He sat on Derek's bed and reflected on what he just saw. A joyful family. Stiles never spent much time contemplating what Derek's family had been like, but judging from Derek's cheerfulness, and Peter's sanity he assumed it was more dysfunctional than what those pictures showed him. Even moreso, Derek looked happy. Stiles couldn't help but think about how he could help Derek regain some of that happiness again. It was a small tug on his conscious to do so, but that small tug had a lot of strength.

"Where's the shower?" Stiles, always adept at distracting himself when needed, rose from the bed. He opened the only remaining door in the room and found, to his astonishment, a bathroom. Though the walls were tainted gray from smoke damage, the floor was tiled, the toilet clean, and the shower had a curtain on it.

"No way!" Stiles reached in the shower and turned it on. Water came out. Stiles jumped back in amazement.

"HOW!" he exclaimed. He turned off the shower and stepped back, rather pleased with himself. He went to walk out the door when he heard a car pull up into the driveway.

"Dammit, I'm dead." Stiles instinctively jumped into Derek's closet and closed the door. He pressed himself up against its interior wall. The closet smelled like fresh laundry. Stiles reached up above him on the upper shelf and found a dryer sheet lying there. Stiles grinned, Derek refused to make small talk but remembered ways to keep his closet laundry fresh.

The sound of footsteps down the hall snapped him back into the present. Stiles took in a deep breath, preparing for soft breathing as long as Derek was home.

"I am soooo dead," he whispered to himself just before the door to the room slid open.


	3. Collide

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews KT, Dereksgirl24, TheSilentMaid, and Gloomy Pearl, I'm glad you're enjoying Supremacy so far! I haven't written a fic in a while so it's great to have the feedback!

_Chapter Three_

_Collide_

The thud of Derek's footsteps were heavy in the hallway, but once inside the bedroom the sound of his stride was muffled by the rug on the floor. Stiles peered through the shuttered door of the closet. He intently watched Derek as he removed his leather jacket and threw it on the bed. Derek stood near his bed for a second and tilted his head back. Stiles listened closely and realized Derek was sniffing the air.

"You smell me don't you?"

Derek did not turn around, "I don't need to."

"You saw my Jeep, and can probably hear my heartbeat, right?"

"Don't forget your tracks outside and through my house."

"This conversation is a little uncomfortable, with your back turned and me hiding in your closet, but I feel much safer in here."

"I'm not going to hurt you, Stiles."

"Turn around, if your fangs are out I'm calling 911."

Stiles expected a roar, or an inhumanly quick maneuver to pull him out of the closet and throw him through the bedroom window, but Derek actually turned around. His eyes and mouth were closed.

"Open your eyes, if they're red I swear I'll find some wolfsbane somewhere in this closet."

Derek opened his eyes; they were their normal gray-green-blue hint.

"Okay, now show me your teeth."

Derek slowly raised his lips; he made what was possibly the worst and most disturbing fake smile Stiles had ever seen. His teeth were normal.

"Okay, I'm coming out."

"I always knew you would."

"Oh, haha," Stiles grunted as he opened the door and stepped out of the closet. He stood in place in front of the open door. Derek stood in his place by his bed mere feet away. The two boys stared at each other for a moment. Stiles licked his lips, nodded his head, and looked around the room.

"So I see your shower-"

"Get out, Stiles."

"C'mon Derek, you know we have a kind of connection. Unspoken, of course. I came here to talk to you."

"We talked, now get out."

"But—"

Stiles was interrupted by Derek's quick moves to grab him. Derek had Stiles' wrist in his hand, squeezing to the point of piercing pain.

"YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T HURT ME! WOLF LIAR!"

"Two times in two days, Stiles. If you don't leave now I'm going to rip—"

"I KNOW, I KNOW! RIP MY THROAT OUT WITH YOUR TEETH! I'VE HEARD IT BEFORE!"

If Stiles had not been yelling, he would have heard the singular laugh that Derek emitted. The Werewolf was genuinely amused. Derek released Stiles and before Stiles could take note of his expression Derek's face returned to a scowl. Stiles wrapped his wrist in his other hand. He began massaging the kink Derek placed in it as he spoke.

"Let me talk."

Derek began to speak.

"Don't interrupt." Stiles held up his index finger, "You assaulted me so I get at least a minute of talk time."

"10 seconds."

"I need you to tell me who Gerard Argent is."

Derek respired, "Argent. Argent? Stiles…"

"I know he's a Hunter, but I saw him today in school and he seems like some uber-freak Hunter. He was staring Scott down hardcore."

"As if any Hunter who knew the identify of a Werewolf wouldn't?"

"You're not concerned about this at all?"

"When he tries to kill him, let me know." Derek turned away from Stiles and sat on his bed.

"Because you have bigger things to worry about, or because Scott offended you and now you're brooding?"

Derek cut his eyes and glared at Stiles.

Stiles walked over to Derek's bed and took a seat beside him, keeping a safe few feet between them. As soon as he sat down Derek's eyes tinged red, which automatically sent Stiles jumping through the air away from him.

"Okay, no close proximity unless you're hitting me."

Derek shook his head and let his head hang low. With his eyes on the floor Derek spoke: "Thank you, Stiles. Thank you for trying. But being Alpha is more than I expected. I just have a lot of thinking to do. Please leave me alone."

"Derek!" Stiles' tone was lighthearted, but he was in partial shock, "We just had a breakthrough!" Stiles approached Derek and placed his hand on his shoulder.

"OUT!" Derek roared, turning to face Stiles. His eyes were red, his fangs revealed, and his sides had returned the unnecessary length common for Werewolves. Stiles jumped back again, falling on the floor and kicking his feet to slide away. His arms were flailing wildly as his back hit the bedroom door. Stiles rose to his feet and darted to his Jeep.

Derek stood up and walked to the window. He saw Stiles jump into his Jeep and drive away. As Derek's features returned to normal he could still hear Stiles' accelerated heartbeat a half a mile down the road. Derek turned and collapsed onto his bed. He killed Peter for everyone's safety; his goal was never to be an Alpha. Alphas were, by nature, ruthless and instinctive. They were angry and short-tempered. He was all of those things, coupled with dangerous. He nearly changed Jackson the night he begged for it, and very nearly killed Stiles just for touching him. Perplexing as it was, the memory of Stiles' touch on his shoulder lingered with him as he drifted into a needed sleep.

X-X-X-X

Allison pulled her car into the driveway of her house. After putting the Mazda in park she sat and stared at her front door. Only a couple of hours ago her grandfather saw her with Scott. She was sure he was waiting for her inside the house. At that very moment he was probably sitting with a Scotch in his hand waiting to chain her up in her room. Despite the frenzied argument he and her parents were involved in she knew they would support whatever measures he wanted to put in place.

Stiles had enough to think about at the moment, but she would eventually have to tell him everything she knew about the man who was once her favorite person in the world. He was powerful, much more powerful than her father, mother, and aunt combined. He was on the Hunter Council, an assembly that governed all Hunters. More than that she did not know, but he had to be a skilled killer to climb up to that governing body.

Allison derided her own thoughts. How was it that the Council had become so malevolent in her eyes? She was an Argent. She was a member of the most notable Hunter family in history. Everything she researched said that Werewolves were the tormentors and the Hunters were the saviors. But how could a savior be so…evil?

When Allison entered her house and saw Gerard she knew her prediction had been correct.

"Sit." He commanded in a tone too similar to Derek's.

"I've got homework to do." Allison clutched her back and began to walk up the stairs. She stopped when Gerard began to speak.

"What you heard last night, the fight, the things that were said, just remember that those things were said in a moment of blind rage."

"You threatened the men who saved my life. You said you were going to kill the guy I love, those things don't just go away pop."

Gerard looked at Allison. She was perched on the stairwell, ready to run away at any moment.

"Allison, you have to know that Werewolves are dangerous. I go by the Code, I will not kill them without proof that they murdered a human. But never forget what they have done to your family."

"Aunt Kate was insane."

"She was also your blood. You don't kill mentally unstable people, you treat them."

"The man who killed her is dead, killed by a Werewolf."

Gerard nodded, "That is true, but don't forget why that Werewolf killed him. He did it for power. They will turn on you in a moment."

Allison began to go up the stairs.

"Allison," Gerard stood and watched her freeze in place, "when the time comes you will align yourself with the Argents. We hunt those that hunt us."

Allison took a moment to speak, a necessary pause after such an intense statement, "They won't hunt us, pop."

Gerard stood up from his seat and walked up to Allison. Though he kept a foot between them his offensive stance still showed.

"They will, you'll see."

X-X-X-X

Around the supernatural cluster that enclosed him Jackson constantly felt weak. On the lacrosse field, he did not. Jackson was the star. Even with Scott's gifts, Jackson knew he was the better player. Albeit his skill made the difference, but it was enough to remind him that the bite was not all he needed to be strong.

As Stiles warmed the bench, Scott and Jackson led their teams on the field playing scrimmage matches against themselves. The state championship was two weeks away and everyone wanted to display their skills and drive to earn a starting position. Jackson almost felt bad for Stiles, who was under cruel punishment for missing the semi-final game. With the events of the previous few days, Jackson knew he had to go to bat for Stiles against their over-caffeinated coach.

Once Finstock blew his whistle to signal the end of practice, Jackson, Scott, Stiles, and Danny assembled at the bench. They traded thoughts on each other's technique, a few friendly jibs, and sympathetic glimpses towards Stiles every time his sarcastic defense mechanisms kicked into the conversation. The boys were eventually interrupted.

"You may play for a different team, but you play really well Danny!"

Stiles investigated the girl who had interrupted their post-practice powwow. The fact that she used nearly the same line he had used to coerce Danny into helping trace a text only enflamed his curiosity. This girl was, by all definitions, gorgeous. She was petite, a little shorter than Allison but not quite as short as Lydia. She wore tight fitting jeans that accented an athletic hourglass, with a loose blouse that left her top half to the imagination. Her skin was slightly tanner than was normal in Beacon Hills, her hair sandy blonde, and her eyes were Chesnutt brown.

"Thanks," Danny smiled. If the boys hadn't known his orientation they would have sworn he had a crush on this girl, "Guys, this is Gabriella Fuoco, she just transferred here today."

Scott and Stiles introduced themselves. Jackson shook her hand and smirked, "I'm Jackson. Fuoco, that's an interesting name."

"It's Italian," she smiled, "and if I hear a Jersey Shore reference I'm going to take your sticks beat you with them."

"Promise?"

Danny elbowed Jackson, "Gabi's going to come out with us to TJ's party on Friday night."

"I am," Gabi locked arms with Danny, "and with a wingman like Danny, I'll be on the prowl. You boys watch out." She winked before she kissed Danny on the cheek and walked away.

"If she just moved here, how did you two become besties all of a sudden?" Stiles questioned.

"We aren't, she's just really cool. Trust me, this girl's going to keep things interesting."

On their way to the locker room Scott whispered to Stiles, "As if we need anything else interesting."

X-X-X-X

Allison had spent a great deal of time reading old books on Werewolf lore. History, fables, research, everything she could get her hands on aided her in her search for truth. When Allison's mother walked into her room, she barely even acknowledged the disruption.

"Allison, look at me."

Allison put Kate's necklace into her book and closed it to mark the page. "Yes?"

Victoria sat on Allison's bed, "Come sit with me." As she granted her mother's request, Victoria continued to speak, "I need you to do me a favor."

Allison scoffed, "A favor? Really?"

"Yes."

"What?"

Victoria took her daughter's hand, "I need you to do what I asked you to do before you faced the Alpha."

Allison remembered her mother's demands that night. She could not meet those demands on that night, and she couldn't do it in that moment either.

"Staying silent isn't going to help anyone."

Victoria, always easy to anger, took a deep, calming breath. "Allison, baby, I need you to understand something. I didn't have the strength that night to tell you this, and I barely do now."

"What?"

"Argents, all members of the Hunter's Council, have roles to play. Usually the roles are chosen for you. You know why your grandfather snapped at me last night?"

"Why?"

"Because my role was chosen for me. I was to be a Hunter, but instead I chose Historian. I refused to be a Hunter because, at that point in my life, I couldn't see myself killing anyone."

"What changed?"

"I still can't see myself doing the killing, but I've seen what Werewolves are capable of. They're not safe creatures, Allison. I know that not even the simplest human is safe, but Werewolves are volatile. I've met Werewolves who are so well trained that they can control themselves at all times, but that's impossible for most."

Allison thought about what her mother said, "How do they do it?"

"I can't say, I'm sure it's different for every wolf." Victoria looked to the ground, "I'm not the best example of staying true to the Code. I've encouraged needless killing. But, if this thing with Derek and Scott has taught me anything, it's that we can never assume."

"Then why won't you make pop see it the same way?"

"He never will," Victoria squeezed Allison's hand, "and I'm scared that other members of the Council share his same thoughts. So please, Allison, before they force you in to something you don't want to be a part of, just stay quiet. I can't watch you go through the same things I've been through."

Allison closed her eyes and rested her head on her mother's shoulder. She would never be a passive daughter, she didn't have that in her, but she could help her mother for as long as possible.

"Okay."

X-X-X-X

Scott rushed through the door of the vet's office. He ran through the empty waiting room and into the back, tossing his book bag to the side.

"Made it!" He pronounced proudly.

Dr. Deaton looked up from his desk and grinned, "After our recent revelations I'm just glad you're still working here, being two minutes doesn't bother me."

Scott took a seat in Dr. Deaton's guest chair, "When are we going to talk about that? I know you said you weren't a Werewolf, but you didn't say you were human either."

Dr. Deaton closed the binder he was gazing through. He locked eyes with Scott, "I know it matters to you, but my identity isn't what's important. You're what's important. If the need comes, I'll tell you everything you need to know. Until then, the dog kennels need cleaning." He smirked.

"You did save my life, so I guess I'll have to take that for now."

"For now," Dr. Deaton pointed to his door, "Kennels."

Scott rolled his eyes and rose from his chair. He nodded in agreement with the vet and left his office. Scott desperately wanted to know Dr. Deaton's involvement in the ever-growing enigma of Beacon Hills, but until then he had dog crap to clean up.

X-X-X-X

"Jackson?"

Lydia's mother broke her gaze from her daughter's face to the boy who had just entered the room.

"Hi," he smiled uneasily, "Sorry for interrupting, I can come back."

"No," she stood, "I need to go run some errands anyway."

Jackson looked around the room. On the couch inside the room there was a blanket. A travel back was unorganized, open, and quite messy in the corner. On a small table near the couch was a laptop, strewn about papers, and a diet Coke. Lydia's mom had been in the hospital frequently since Lydia's injuries, but it appeared as if she was living there now.

"How are you?"

Lydia's mom sighed, "Hopeful." She smiled and walked to Jackson, hugging him, "Lydia would be happy you're here." She let him go and looked him in the eyes, "She told me what happened with the break up, but I know she would want you here with her."

Jackson nodded, "I'm glad you think so."

The mother, who was normally nice with a harsh edge, had been deeply changed by this event. There were rumors that she and Lydia's dad were planning on getting back together. Jackson couldn't help but think how ironic it was that it took a disaster for people to truly appreciate one another.

As Lydia's mother left the room and closed the door he took a seat beside her bed. He felt out of place and even feared to take her hand, as if she would wake up and shoo him away for touching her. Jackson didn't speak. It took him nearly twenty minutes to muster up the courage to take her hand. After another ten minutes he spoke.

"I'm sorry."

The two events couldn't have had anything to do with one another. But Jackson blamed himself when Lydia flat-lined. Mere seconds after he spoke the steady beep of her heart monitor turned in to a loud screech, signaling to the hospital that her heart had stopped. After that Jackson's perception of reality shifted. Voices were muffled, his vision nearly blurred, all he could hear was his own heartbeat. Even as a nurse guided him out of the room and the code team ran in, all he could think was how his heart was still beating and Lydia's had stopped.

X-X-X-X

Dr. Deaton rushed into the kennels when he heard Scott scream. As he ran through the office and into the kennel door Scott was hunched into a defensive position. His fangs were exposed, ears pointed up as if he were listening to something. He turned his eyes to Dr. Deaton and roared. The vet backed away slowly from the much more feral version of his apprentice and shut the kennel door. Scott ran for the door as it shut, and despite his attempts to rip it open, he could not beat it down once Dr. Deaton locked it.

X-X-X-X

Victoria shut her eyes and winched at the sudden pain striking her chest. Her heart felt like it was compressing with a pinching sensation spreading up her neck and down her left side. Allison jumped up off the bed.

"MOM!"

Victoria's body began shaking. Involuntary muscle spasms struck her stomach and arms. In a matter of seconds she fell off of the bed and drifted into unconsciousness.

X-X-X-X

Stiles climbed out of his window. The sun had just set and the moon was no where in sight, but Stiles prayed that when the moon finally rose it would not be full. This would be his third visit to Derek's house in a very short time period, but he needed his help. The police scanner revealed another person had been killed and this time Peter Hale couldn't have been responsible.

X-X-X-X

_Next Chapter_

_The Call of the Wild_

_Stiles and Derek examine the murder scene while Allison finds out her mother's, and Lydia's, fate. Scott unphases and finds out some very interesting information from Dr. Deaton. Everyone is taken by surprise when the murderer's next attack is on one of them._


	4. The Call of the Wild

Author's Note: Again, thanks for the reviews! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

_Chapter Four_

_The Call of the Wild_

Stiles was fortunate. Driving at fluctuating speeds exceeding 80 miles per hour would normally lead to police attention, but the small police force in Beacon Hills was distracted by the murder. Though he was driving as fast as his Wrangler could go he still did not feel it was fast enough. The thought that another murder had happened so soon after Peter Hale's death was insane. He needed Derek to examine the crime scene, to get a scent or see something that would probably be missed by a normal human's eyes. As he turned onto the road leading to the Hale estate he realized he could have gotten Scott to help him. Instead, he found himself going to Derek yet again.

Stiles yelped as he slammed on his brakes. A large, hairy, dark figure erupted out of the woods and ran into his driving course. Stiles rammed the figure at 60 miles per hour, knocking it a fair distance away. His headlights revealed the figure for what it was, a Werewolf. A Peter Hale sized Werewolf. Stiles instantly realized that Derek had phased and knew there was no stopping a pissed off Alpha from killing whatever was in its path.

Stiles slammed his Jeep into reverse. As he backed away the Werewolf disappeared into the night, no longer illuminated by his headlights. He wanted to check on Derek, to see if he killed him, but if Stiles didn't kill him then Derek would kill him. Stiles tried turn around, but backed into a tree in his haste. Before he could drive away his door opened and he was thrown to the ground.

"PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!" he screamed, eyes closed.

"I'm not going to kill you idiot."

Stiles peered through one eye to find Derek standing over him, dressed in nothing but gym shorts.

"Why are you naked!"

"Because you just ran over me and I unphased."

"Oh, extreme pain, right. But why are you naked!"

"My clothes don't phase with me, is there a reason why you're here, again?" Derek was speaking through gritted teeth, clearly angry but trying to keep his temper down.

Stiles breathed a sigh of relief, "Oh, God. I swear I thought…"

"Point, Stiles." Derek lifted him up to his feet. Stiles winced at his touch from fear of being hit. This slightly insulted him, as if Stiles actually feared him. That was an odd reaction since Derek used to enjoy scaring Stiles.

"Sorry." Stiles shook his head and cracked his neck, "There was—" Stiles paused and looked at Derek's shorts, his curiosity overtaking his thoughts, "If you just unphased then why do you have shorts?"

"Really?'

"Inquiring minds want to know."

"I tie them to my leg so my dick isn't swinging around when idiots hit me with a car and make me unphase."

"Oh." Stiles eyed Derek. Derek eyed Stiles. As seemed to be frequent between the two, an awkward silence stood between them. In that moment, Stiles confused himself with his attraction to Derek's features. Even though there was a murder, and he hit someone with a car, he was actually lost gazing at Derek's face. Stiles didn't understand what was going through his mind, and didn't have time to rationalize.

"Stiles! Point!"

"Oh! Sorry, I just—whatever. Some real shit is going down right now, I just heard that there was another murder."

"What?"

"Yeah! A murder, with no Alpha to pin it on!" Stiles realized he was standing in front of an Alpha and corrected himself. "I mean no Peter Hale."

Derek turned away from Stiles and thought for a moment.

"I figured we could go and check it out. You can do your sniff sniff thing I'll provide the commentary."

Derek nodded, "Take me back to my place so I can get some clothes. I'll go with you if you keep the commentary to yourself."

They jumped into Stiles' car and drove off toward Derek's house. The ride was silent, except for when Derek saw Stiles' eyes stray from the road and over to him. Derek bucked towards Stiles, shocking the boy into paying attention to the road.

Derek turned to look out of the passenger-side window and hide the smile that crossed his face. He still enjoyed scaring Stiles, just a little.

X-X-X-X

"This is ridiculous." Victoria said as she took in a deep breath for the doctor pressing his stethoscope to her back.

"Mom!" Allison snapped, "You had a heart attack right in front of me! We need to make sure you're okay!"

"Ridiculous, but necessary," the doctor examining her spoke up. He walked over to her chart of results from a previous battery of tests, "your blood pressure is disturbingly high. I'm surprised you haven't had a heart attack before tonight."

"My blood pressure?" Victoria questioned. She seemed shocked.

"Yes," the doctor replied, "along with the high BPMs your heart is emitting and high temperature. I'm going to prescribe some medication that should bring that right down, and here's a list of foods you should avoid. Other than that I'm surprised you feel so well after a heart attack. I can honestly say you're the first person to walk in here and leave in the same night when cardiac arrest was the problem."

"What do you mean?" Chris asked.

"Well," the doctor handed Chris her prescription, "there's usually some amount of heart damage, ranging from minor that will heal with appropriate attention or major that can result in the heart being unable to pump blood. Heart attacks effect people differently, but the fact that there is no damage evident in her ECG or MRI is pretty miraculous."

"Well," Victoria smiled, "Christmas is next month so maybe it's an early miracle. Can we leave now?"

The doctor nodded, "You're free to go, but I will need to see you in a week for a follow-up. If you have any chest pains, shortness of breath, or nausea call me, okay?"

Victoria nodded spared no time in rushing out of her room's door. Chris, Gerard, and Allison were in tow. On their way out of the hospital Allison saw Jackson sitting in the ICU waiting room. He looked stunned.

"Mom," Allison pointed to Jackson, "I need to check on Jackson."

"Then you have him give you a ride home, I can't stay here."

Gerard eyed Victoria oddly. Chris nodded to Allison.

"Go ahead," he said, "if you need a ride let me know. I need to get your mom home."

As the three Argents left the hospital Allison approached Jackson and sat down beside him. He did not notice at her first, but when she placed her hand on his shoulder his lost thoughts were re-focused.

"Are you okay?" Allison said, deep concern rooted in her voice.

"No," Jackson spoke, "Lydia…"

"She's—" Allison instantly felt herself begin to tear up, preparing for Jackson's next words.

"She's fine." Jackson replied, his eyes still fixated in front of him, "But she flat lined, she almost died tonight." He shook his head, "I just can't—"

"Think about it?" Allison asked, "Talk about it? It's okay, you don't have to. She's fine. That's all that matters." She pulled Jackson in to a hug, wiping the slight moisture under her eyes as they hugged. "So she's totally fine?"

Jackson pulled away, "Yeah. Her mom had just left so I was the only one there when it happened. I just…I wanted to apologize to her for what I put her through. When I did she flat-lined, I know it's stupid, I just felt…responsible."

Allison shook her head, "You're not, you know that."

Jackson nodded, "Her parents are in there now. I didn't go back after they got here, I think they just want to be alone with her."

Allison looked at the doors of the ICU, she could barley see Lydia's parents in the room but could not see her face.

"Let's go home," Allison said, "I'll come with you to visit her tomorrow."

Jackson nodded as they stood up, "Did you come to see her?"

Allison sighed, "I'll explain in the car."

X-X-X-X

Scott's mom had been worried when he was late for dinner, when he didn't answer his calls on his cell phone or the vet's phone. Scott hated it, but he began lying to her as soon as he got home. The kennels needed cleaning and one of the dogs brought in from a drug bust got out. Animal control had to be called, Dr. Deaton left early and he was alone, the lies kept coming to explain why he was extremely late to get home.

His mother was the most caring person he had ever met. Her worrisome anger shifted to concern at her son's words in a matter of seconds. She was the woman who raised him. Who taught him to be proud of himself. Who hadn't bought a new dress in two years to fund him playing lacrosse. The woman who had given him everything he desired despite her having nothing to show for it, except a lying son.

As Scott removed his shirt and changed into a pair of shorts he considered what life would be like if he told his mother about his condition. What would she say? No matter her opinion, he knew she would support him and that would mean he wouldn't have to lie to her anymore.

Scott nestled into his bed and apologized to his mother under his breath. Before he drifted to sleep the words of Dr. Deaton echoed in his mind.

X-X-X-X

The site of the murder, though announced hours previous to Derek and Stiles' arrival, was still swarming with law enforcement. The body was found in an alleyway not far from Beacon Hills' town square. Given Stiles' lack of Werewolf agility, he waited in his Jeep as Derek leapt across rooftops to position himself above the site. After a half-hour he returned to Stiles' Jeep and hopped in the passenger seat.

"So?" Stiles probed Derek, expectant for an answer.

"I didn't see anything," Derek said, "the body had already been removed. But, I smelled wolves. Werewolves. At least three different ones."

"Distant cousins of yours?"

Derek cut his eyes at Stiles, "No, asshole. I have some thinking to do."

"I'll take you back to your place." Stiles started his Jeep.

"No," Derek opened his door, "you go home. I want to stick around for the night. When the area clears I'll be able to get closer."

"Even though your name is cleared you can't risk being caught near a murder scene, I know."

Derek nodded, "And Stiles, one more thing."

Stiles ducked down into his seat as Derek grabbed for his head. The last time Derek had said that Stiles' face collided with his steering wheel. Derek would have reached out to slap him instead, but Stiles' reaction was enough to satiate his need for punishment. This time Derek didn't hide his laugh as he leapt out of Stiles' Jeep.

As he disappeared into the night Stiles drove off, muttering under his breath about Derek domestically abusing him.

X-X-X-X

"A fairy!" Stiles was hunched over his lunch tray, forming a secretive circle with Scott, Jackson, and Allison.

"Yeah!" Scott replied, "That's how he fended off Peter Hale, apparently."

"A fairy!" Stiles was still in disbelief.

"What does a fairy do, exactly?" Jackson's rationality overtook Stiles' excitement, "I always thought they floated around with little wings and weren't real."

"A few months ago I didn't think Werewolves were real," Allison said plainly, "At this point I'm ready to believe anything."

"He said he was really old, and said that he knew a lot of things. But he didn't say anything about powers, just that he watches this area."

"Watches?" Allison asked, "Like he protects it?"

"Well he did a fine job with all of the murders then, huh?" Stiles mastery of sarcasm was at its utmost proficiency in the discussion.

"I don't think so," Scott said, "I think he is just here in case something huge goes down. He said he just watches and only stepped in to help me because he knew me personally."

"Did he say anything about why you phased?" Allison asked, again very coolly .

"Yeah," Scott's face twisted in confusion, "he was just as confused as I was. He said that he heard something, a sort of call. Like a wolf's howl but different. He said it sounded like a woman's voice, kind of sing-song. I can't remember what is sounded like."

"Does he know if Derek phased?" Jackson, though always critical, was very interested in the result of this discussion as well.

"No." Scott said.

"I do," Allison replied, "Stiles ran over him in Alpha form last night."

"What!" Scott exclaimed.

"Yes," Stiles leaned forward, "he's fine, but we went to check out the murder from last night and he said he could smell the scent of other wolves there."

"You went with Derek and not me?" Scott asked.

"You weren't answering your phone and no one was answering the door when I went by the vet's office!" Stiles lied, "I didn't now you had phased, I just assumed you were busy. Sue me."

"Aw," Jackson said sarcastically, "cute. This is wild, Scott and Derek both phased, there was a murder with other Werewolves…did he say who they were?"

"No," Stiles exhaled sharply, "I was going to go by his place after school to ask him about it. But with all of this, I think there are more things we have to discuss."

"What?" Allison asked.

"Well," Stiles leaned forward even more, glancing around as he lowered his voice to a whisper, "the phasing, the murder, your mom, Lydia almost dying, I think it's all connected. When Lydia was bit and didn't change, I started digging in to the things that are immune to Werewolf bites…and there aren't any, except for one."

"What?" The three said simultaneously.

Stiles grinned, "Look at you, wanting my knowledge. Bet your fairy doesn't know this…it's called the Mother. I read about her in a book about the Hunter Council. Apparently the Mother is the one who gave birth to the Mystics, the supernatural things in the world. She was a normal human who had six children: a vampire, a Werewolf, a shapeshifter, a barbarian, a mage, and a psychic. Her children grew up to expand their bloodline and that's where all of the supernatural beings come from.

"I know it sounds far fetched, but the book said that one of the goals of the Hunter's Council is to find the Mother born into every generation. She is constantly reborn due to the sorrow of her children for her death, or something like that. That part wasn't specific, but they can find out if a suspected mortal is the mother by inflicting her with a vampire bite, a Werewolf bite, or having a psychic read her mind. All three of those things don't work."

Scott and Jackson sat back and laughed.

"Lydia?" Jackson shook his head, "The root of all this?"

"Vampires?" Scott took a sip of his water, "Mages, psychics, barbarians?"

Allison was still focused on Stiles, "Did the book say anything about her being able to summon Werewolves?"

"Yes," Stiles said, "in her current form she can only call them when her life is in danger. It's something about two souls being inside one body. Most of the time, before that, even the girl doesn't know who she is. The book said some women die never knowing that they are the Mother."

Jackson began to reconsider his skepticism, while Scott continued to shake his head.

"So when Lydia flat lined last night," Jackson began, "around that same time we know Scott and Derek both phased and there was a murder involving other Werewolves."

"And when Lydia was attacked on formal night," Stiles said, "at that same time Scott phased."

"I was being attacked," Scott said, "of course I would phase."

"Maybe," Allison responded, "or this is true. I mean, I can't believe it either, but we already have Werewolves and fairies in this town…is this really that crazy?"

"Where did you find this book in Beacon Hills?" Scott asked, "The library!"

"Amazon." Stiles said simply.

The three were quiet for a moment, "We need to talk to Derek, and to Dr. Deaton." Stiles knew one of the two would have answers to this, "Let's go to Derek's tonight after practice, he may have found something else out about the murder too."

Scott scoffed.

"Don't be a baby," Allison took Scott's hand, "you two need to talk this out anyway, especially if half of the things we just talked about were true."

X-X-X-X

"I just don't see how Lydia could be the Mother, or whatever this thing is called." Scott protested, "If she were then more weird things would have happened around her."

"You mean weirder things than the Hale house fire, a Werewolf murdering spree, the Argents moving to town, and a new pack moving in?" Stiles leaned forward from the back seat, "As far as I know Beacon Hills isn't that interesting to supernaturals for it's trees and lacrosse team."

"She was just a kid for half of that," Allison responded, "and Scott was around her plenty of times and never phased."

"Maybe she was trying to hide it," Jackson said.

"You can't be serious!" Scott said, turning to face Jackson in the back seat, "You've known her your whole life, does she really seem like she could be the birth source of all of this crazy stuff? And anyway Peter Hale mauled her, if she had the power to stop him she would have."

"Either way," Stiles interrupted, "Derek may know something that can help explain this. And if he doesn't I'm sure your fairy veterinarian can."

"Why do you sound like you don't believe me? He told me he's a fairy!"

"Maybe he can explain why Allison's mother had a heart attack, too." Jackson brought up a point they had yet to consider, "It's a little odd to me."

Allison slammed the car to a full stop. The boys, distracted by their supernatural debate had been ignoring the road and, in this case, the skyline. They all stared at Allison, who had her eyes and mouth open.

"Oh, God," she whispered as she pointed in front of them.

Though the road to Derek's house led them through a heavily wooded area they could still see a flood of bright, orange light filter through the woods. Above the tree rose a pillar of black smoke. The Hale Estate was on fire.

X-X-X-X

_Next Chapter_

_Tourniquet_

_Stiles, Scott, Allison and Jackson discover the cause of the fire. Big changes come soon after._


	5. Tourniquet

Author's Note: Again, thanks for the reviews! Hope you enjoy this chapter and please review! I'm not the best at writing action sequences, so let me know if you have any feedback!

_Chapter Five_

_Tourniquet_

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no!" Stiles exclaimed, "Let's go!"

Allison, who had stopped about a mile down from Derek's house, did not shift the car into drive. She looked over to Scott, "What do you think it is?'

Scott shook his head, "Whatever did this, if it's still there, we fight it." Scott turned to look in the back seat, "Jackson, Stiles, drive us down to the house and then haul ass back to Allison's house. Tell the Argents there was an attack on Derek's house and have them come help us."

"Don't tell my granddad, go straight to my mother." Allison instructed.

"Hell, no, I'm not leaving you guys out there alone," Stiles protested.

"Yes you are," Scott said, "you can't defend yourself against a Werewolf or anything that could do that, Stiles."

Stiles' heart was racing. He was physically sick at the thought of Derek being hurt. As he and Jackson climbed into the front seat, trading places with Allison and Scott, he had many disaster scenarios popping in his head. Derek had already been killed and whoever set the fire was burning his body. Derek was chained inside and was going to burn to death. Everything ended in Derek's death, because nothing would be able to set that house on fire without him risking his life to stop it.

Jackson sped down the secluded road. As they neared the house the bright orange light grew closer to blinding them in the dark night. Once they were near the front of the house a single, small, figure could be seen standing in front of the it. Whoever this figure was took their time to enjoy the sight of their handiwork. Allison and Scott jumped out of the car as Jackson slammed on the Mazda's brakes.

Scott, having decent control of his phasing, switched to his Werewolf form as he jumped out. Allison let the back seat down to reach into the trunk. She pulled a crossbow, compound bow, and a quiver of varied arrows out and leapt to her feet outside of the car. Jackson hollered for them to be careful as he slammed the car into reverse.

"Go to the Argents and get them here fast so I don't end up dead," Stiles said. Before Jackson had a chance to say anything Stiles opened the door and hopped out. He could not let Allison and Scott face this alone. Even more prevalent in his thoughts was that, if it were at all possible, he would be the one to find and save Derek.

"STILES!" Jackson yelled, "DAMN IT!" He slammed his fist into the steering wheel before careening back down the road.

X-X-X-X

Allison stood not far from where she had gotten out of the car. With her quiver and crossbow slung across her back, she lifted her compound bow and readied an arrow. She pointed it directly at the suspect. Scott was hunched over in an offensive pose; hands spread wide, teeth showing, eyes plotting his course of attack.

"Who are you?" Scott demanded.

The person, who had turned around once the car pulled up, did not speak.

"Tell us," Allison yelled, "or we fight."

It happened extremely fast, almost too fast for Scott to track. The person reached to its back. A sharp metallic screech sounded as the assailant unsheathed a knife. In an agile and limber spin it threw the knife toward Scott. He jumped to the side, rolling in the fallen leaves to dodge the blade. It collided with a tree, slitting its resting place in the thick bark. Before Scott had time to rise, Allison let an arrow fly toward the attacker. Though nearly impossible, the person grabbed the arrow before it hit.

"Noi caccia coloro che chi caccia," the person said, the voice of a woman's, "I am a Hunter." With those words she broke the arrow in half and sent both parts flying in Scott and Allison's direction.

X-X-X-X

The heat from the blaze was almost unbearable. Though the fire had yet to consume the entire house, flames had spread through most of the top floor, living room, and foyer. The smoke was filtering up out of the house through the mostly absent roof, which granted Stiles a small line of sight.

"DEREK!" he screamed as loud as his voice would allow. He had never been around a fire so big; the small cackling of a campfire was no indication to the sound of a large fire: a hellish roar.

Stiles ran; his skin grew hotter than his body temperature, searching the areas of the house he could reach. There was no sign of Derek anywhere. He began to panic as he ran back into the foyer. The fire had spread closer to the stairway. He gazed in the corners and found Derek chained to the banister in the back corner of the foyer. The fire had not yet reached that area of the house, but was mere feet away.

"Derek!" Stiles ran over to him. The Werewolf had several knives stabbed deep in his torso. Arrows held his arms in place to support the cuffs chaining his arms to the uprights of the banister. If Derek were conscious he would have been able to free himself with no problem, but he wasn't. Stiles leaned close to his face to check his breathing and could hear nothing but the reverberation of the fire.

Stiles sifted through his memories of Werewolves. Derek should have healed, why he hadn't made no sense to him. Stiles pulled the arrows out of Derek's arms. He positioned himself between the wall and the stairwell and tugged Derek's arms to try to break the uprights holding him there. When that didn't work Stiles cursed the air around him. His skin was nearly on fire, the heat made it hard for him to breathe.

Stiles ran up the stairs. He grabbed on to the banister behind him and kicked the uprights with all of his might. They budged, but were not broken. He kicked harder, again, and again, until they popped out of their places. He looked over the stairwell to see Derek's arms, once suspending him from them, had fallen limp. His entire body was limp and spread lifeless on the floor.

Stiles rushed to Derek's side, grabbing the large man and propping him up on his shoulder. After taking one step the duo fell to the floor. The fire had completely consumed the living room at this point and half of the foyer. Stiles had no choice but to drag Derek through the house, dodging pillars of flame and falling debris, out of the back. Though he was hot, his eyes stung, and his body hurt from dragging a man twice his size in muscle to safety, Stiles was out safe with Derek.

He pulled him into the woods, on the opposite side of the house as Scott and Allison and the arsonist. After a few moments of wondering why Derek hadn't healed Stiles saw that the holes in his arms from the arrows were closed. Much to his utter disgust, he realized the wound wouldn't close unless what had inflicted them was removed. So, with strong attempts to hold back his gag reflex, Stiles began to tug the small throwing knives out of Derek's torso. After pulling out the eighth and final one he stepped back. Only time would tell if he would heal.

Stiles collapsed on the ground beside Derek, looking at the pillar of smoke rising in the sky. The police would be there any minute, and Stiles would have to explain his involvement to his father. Even worse, when Derek woke up he would realize that the last remnants of his family were gone. Stiles looked at the still body lying beside him and tried to fight the feeling of pity that overtook his mind. As he did he remembered something: the pictures. He jumped to his feet and eyed the house. Derek's room wasn't completely consumed, yet. Stiles looked down to Derek and then back to the house. If he could save some piece of this man's family memory he had to try.

Stiles ran towards the burning house. The sound of sirens rang softly in the distance.

X-X-X-X

A flare-head arrow exploded in blinding light near the Hunter, breaking her defensive stance in time for Scott to tackle her to the ground. Though she struggled, he got her wrists pinned to the ground. The knives she wielded with deadly accuracy released from her grasp as he squeezed. Scott roared to intimidate her, but she kicked her knee into his groin. He winced, loosening his grip enough for her fight her way free.

She rose from the ground, picked up the knives and rammed both into Scott's back. He arched upward, hollering in pain as he phased back into his human form. The Hunter whipped out another set of concealed knives and moved to slice them across his neck. An arrow to her thigh interrupted her momentum. Another arrow sliced through the air and into her shoulder. She wailed in pain and yanked the arrow out of her leg, but Allison sent another flying. She jumped out of its path and reached to the small of her back. There, a small revolver rested in a holster.

Allison fired another arrow in the Hunter's direction, while she slipped behind a tree and aimed the gun for Allison. She fired a few rounds, none of them coming close to Allison. Before Allison could fire another arrow headlights and police sirens interrupted the fight. She ran out into the open in front of the burning house to reach Scott. The Hunter slipped into the forest. She completely disappeared into the night.

"Oh my God, Scott!" Allison exclaimed as she yanked the knives from his back. He shrieked in pain again, with a bit of a wolf's howl mixed in. Despite the pain, he quickly healed. Allison ushered him into the thick of the woods where they ducked and watched the police cars and fire engine pull up to the hopelessly burned estate.

"Let's go," Allison whispered, "I'll text Jackson and Stiles and tell them we're okay. Maybe my parents won't have to be involved."

"But, Derek," Scott protested, "where is he?"

Allison sighed, "If he's in there, he's dead Scott. We can't do anything about it now."

X-X-X-X

Stiles coughed heavily as he rushed up the stairs, dodging pockets of flame. He made his way easily upstairs, but most of the floor was ablaze. He rushed into Derek's room. The room was nearly gone, most of the wall was on fire, but the center of room had not fully ignited. He ran to the bedside table, yanked open the drawer, and pulled the pictures out. He stuffed them into his jacket pocket and made a quick exit out of Derek's room.

As he ran to the staircase Laura's room and half of the hallway collapsed to the bottom floor, taking his access to the stairs with it. The top few stairs caught on fire as well. His mind was racing, there was no way out other than the staircase. The wall behind him that originally blocked the half-destroyed second floor from the outside deteriorated in front of his eyes. The floor below him began to give. Without thinking, Stiles instinctively ran for the staircase and jumped over the flames, across the empty landing in front of them, and landed on his feet in the midst of the fire at the top of the stairs. He jumped forward, feet and legs nearly igniting, and fell over. He rolled down the entire staircase to the foyer. He groaned. His back, hips, and shoulders took a heavy beating. He leaped to his feet and ran, limping as he made his way through the kitchen and out the back.

Though he was limping he made it to Derek's side quickly. Stiles lifted Derek's shirt to find the wounds were completely healed. Stiles could now hear the commotion in the front. The police had made it to the house.

"Derek," Stiles shook the Werewolf, "wake up! Derek!" He shook his head. Stiles knew how much his fist would hurt after punching Derek, but collided with his face to draw him back into consciousness. Derek's eyes opened and though he seemed weak he rose up.

"Stiles?" Derek's misty eyes were confused.

"Derek," Stiles sighed, "God, man, I'm so sorry."

Derek turned and caught the last glimpse of his home before the fire forced the entire estate to fall to its foundation.

"NO!" Derek wailed, his voice shifting between that of a human and a wolf many times within that one, long yell. He tried to run to the house but Stiles wrapped his arms around him and pulled him back.

"Derek there's nothing you can do now. The police are here, we have to get out of here."

Derek fell to his knees. He covered his face in his hands as he sobbed. His entire body shook with rage, despair, and even fear. Stiles had not released his hold on him.

"Derek, please, we'll go to my place. Just come on, you can't be here right now."

X-X-X-X

"HELLO!" Jackson shouted as he rang the doorbell to the Argents' house several times in a row. After a few seconds, Victoria opened the door.

"Can I help you!" She exclaimed.

"Oh, Mrs. Argent," Jackson sighed, "We need your help!"

"What!" She closed the door behind her and stepped closer to Jackson.

His phone vibrated and he pulled it out, finding a text message from Allison.

_STOP. Meet us at the reserve! Don't say a word to my mom!_

He grinned moved his mouth a bit, seemingly making words that looked more like silent babble.

"I just need your help finding Allison, because she lost her car, but I found it and she just texted me."

Victoria cocked her head to the side. Her eyes bore into Jackson and she seemed as if she were listening for something, waiting on something more.

"Thanks!" Jackson ran off and hopped into Allison's car, driving off with a goofy grin and waving goodbye.

Victoria did not stop him, though she knew she could have if she wanted. She stared at the road for a minute and saw a very faint cloud of smoke rising in the distance. She exhaled deeply and stepped back inside of her house.

X-X-X-X

Stiles checked the driveway, the garage, and the street. There was no sign of his father. He was obviously still at the scene of the fire, probably wondering where the notorious Derek Hale had been during the blaze. Derek, unfortunately for his father, was not at the scene. He was following behind Stiles. Both of them had walked from his estate to Stiles' home. After about an hour and a half of walking the two were sneaking up the driveway towards the dark house.

Stiles let Derek in the house first. It had been an intense night, with many new emotions surfacing in Stiles' conscious mind that utterly confused him, but what he was feeling at that very moment was the most perplexing. On their walk Derek's head hung to the ground, walking without his normal purposeful stomp, and his prideful posture was reduced to a depressive slump.

The worst thing about it was his face. Several times Stiles' stopped to talk to him, to make sure he was okay, and when Derek lifted his head Stiles saw it. He saw his eyes were vacant pools, empty remnants of the man he once was. His lips, though usually in a scowl, were loose, nearly dead. His brow, once alert, slumped worse than his posture. His face, that beautiful face, was twisted in despair.

All of these things hurt Stiles. The pain Stiles felt for him was too much to bear. Stiles could not have felt worse if his own father had died. It nearly drove the slightly ADD boy to wrap Derek in a hug, but he did not feel it would help. The thought crossed Stiles' mind that Derek didn't want him to be his emotional support, that Derek didn't want his comfort, that, basically, Derek didn't want him. It wasn't until Stiles' felt the sinking sensation in his heart that he realized what this meant. He loved Derek.

By the time Stiles had come to this realization they were already in his room. Stiles' suggested Derek go shower and he did so, in the most lifeless manner that was possible. Stiles ran out of his room and returned with an oversized t-shirt and shorts for Derek to sleep in, both courtesy of his unknowing dad. He placed this inside of his bathroom without turning his eyes to the shower.

After Derek had showered and changed he walked in the room and sat down next to Stiles on his bed. His eyes were fixated on the night sky outside of Stiles' window.

"Stiles," Derek's voice was empty, "thank you for what you did tonight. I'll be gone before your dad wakes up in the morning."

"Where are you going to go?" Stiles felt awkward staring at the wall while talking to a person sitting right beside him, but he did it anyway since Derek's eyes were fixed on the window.

"I don't know."

"You can stay here Derek," Stiles said, "I would like it if you would, I don't want you out there by yourself."

"I am by myself, Stiles." Derek's head drifted down and hung low. He rested his face in his hands.

Stiles reached inside of his jacket pocket, "Listen, please don't be mad at me, but when I got you out of the house I went back in. That day you found me in your room, I was looking for you, but I kind of went through your things and found these." He pulled a stack of pictures out of the pocket and handed them to Derek, "I know it isn't much, but I thought these would be important to you."

Derek looked at Stiles, his eyes searching the boys face but for what Stiles did not know. Stiles sat uneasily, unsure if Derek was going to thank him or hit him. Derek took the pictures from the boy and looked at the one on top, one of him and Laura when they were both young. Derek drew in a sharp breath, and Stiles heard a small whimper. A single tear escaped Derek's eye as he looked up to the boy who had saved his life.

Stiles placed a hand on Derek's shoulder, "And as long as I'm here, you're not going to be alone. I—"

Stiles stopped speaking, not because he didn't have anything to say, but because Derek leaned forward and pressed his lips to his.

X-X-X-X

_Next Chapter_

_Rumour Has It_

_Allison and Scott have try to identify the mysterious Hunter, and enlist Jackson's help. Stiles meets Danny at TJ's party. Stiles and Derek discuss their living situation._

Author's Note: How are you liking the chapter previews? Should I keep them or do you like waiting for the next one without a slight spoiler?


	6. Rumour Has It

Author's Note: To answer some questions I've been receiving, the chapter titles are all names of songs that I enjoy or think are relevant to the chapter. "Haunted," "What You Want," and "Tourniquet" are all Evanescence songs, "Collide" is by Howie Day, and "The Call of the Wild" is not the name of a song…but the chapter was originally going to be called "The Red" by Chevelle. You win at life if you can guess the artist who sings the title of this chapter (as if it's not that obvious) ;)

Thanks for the reviews!

_Chapter Six_

_Rumour Has It_

Stiles leaned away from Derek, jumping back almost instinctively. His eyes scurried across Derek's face, avoiding the stare he was getting from him. Derek had just kissed him, or tried to. Stiles knew he wanted that kiss; he had known for a while. But when he finally received it he didn't know how to respond.

"What was that!" Stiles exclaimed, his hands doing most of the talking for him.

Derek leaned back. Stiles saw a trace of the scowl he liked so much cross the Werewolf's face. Despite the strength of Derek's expression, his intimidation factor was slightly drowned due to the baggy red t-shirt he was wearing. Bright colors took away from his mystery factor.

"I thought it was obvious." Derek's words were simple, matter-of-fact, and slightly forced.

"I mean it was, I get it, but why?"

Derek rolled his eyes, "Stiles."

His name rolled out of Derek's mouth with a bit of aggravation.

"Is this because of what happened tonight? Have you been wanting to this for a while? How can you be so cool right now?"

"Because I'm not overanalyzing it like you're about to," Derek leaned in closer, "or like you already have. I won't do it again."

Stiles scoffed, "Why would you say that, or threaten me like that? I just—I mean—I talk a lot—"

"I know you do." Derek grabbed Stiles' shirt and pulled him closer. Stiles knew the kiss was coming, and despite the initial shock he was more prepared for it. Derek's lips were soft against his. With the sour look on his face all the time he assumed Derek's face wouldn't be as comfortable to the touch as it was. Stiles opened his mouth, moving in motion with Derek, as he tangled his hands in Derek's black hair.

The bristles of his 5 o'clock shadow tickled Stiles' chin, and this being his first real kiss he felt a little conscious that he wasn't doing something right. He contemplated asking Derek if he was doing okay, but for once he kept his thoughts to himself. Derek's warm hands soon found their way to Stiles' cheeks. His hands were big, a little rough, but sent chills running down his spine.

Derek soon tugged at Stiles' shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal his bare torso. Stiles' pale white skin was illuminated in the moonlight pouring in from his bedroom window. Derek ran his hands softly over the boy's bare skin, sparking sensations of pleasure all over his body. Stiles gripped Derek's hair and pulled him tighter against him.

The tug of his hair provoked a rougher edge in Derek. He gripped Stiles under his arms and pushed him to lie on his back on the bed. Derek slid between his legs and began to slowly grind against him. Stiles had never felt sensations like he was in that moment. He slipped his hands down Derek's back and pulled his shirt over his head. Their bare skin touched and sparked electricity between them. Derek propped himself up with one hand and slid the other down to forcefully grip Stiles' hip. When he did Stiles winced in pain.

Derek pulled back, breathing at a heavy but even pace, "Are you okay?"

Stiles nodded, "Yeah, I'm sorry, it's just—"

Derek had moved down to inspect Stiles before he had finished his sentence. He saw the bruises on Stiles' hip. Before Stiles could speak Derek had flipped him over. As Stiles lay awkwardly on his stomach Derek ran a finger gently across the purple and blue bruises that littered his back and shoulders. Derek leaned over Stiles, being sure not to touch a bruise.

"What happened?"

Stiles, who couldn't see Derek's face, responded, "I fell down the stairs in the house. It could have been worse."

Derek kissed Stiles' shoulder, "You should have told me."

"Like I knew you were going to manhandle me?"

"I wasn't manhandling you, stop being a—"

"Hey!" Stiles interrupted him. He rolled over gently under Derek and pulled him back down to him, "Can we skip the banter and get back to thirty seconds ago."

Derek looked at him confused and leaned in for a quick and even more awkward kiss. His eyebrows were still arched and Stiles could feel the pout of Derek's lips. Stiles arched his head back, revealing his neck to Derek.

"Why are you so worried—" Stiles began, but stopped as Derek's lips began to trail up Stiles' neck toward his ears. Stiles tried not to wince from the sensation, but the warmth of Derek's lips coupled with the tickling of his stubble nearly overtook him. Derek's lips were at his ear when Stiles' phone rang.

Derek licked his lips and rolled off of Stiles, "You should get that."

Stiles exhaled in frustration and answered the phone.

"What-what! What! What do you—what do you want!"

X-X-X-X

"Stiles?" Scott asked, "You're okay?"

"Scott!" Stiles exclaimed through the phone, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Did you find Derek?" Scott placed Stiles on speakerphone.

"Why would I know where Derek is, why? What? Why?"

Jackson interrupted, "Because you jumped out of the car looking for him."

"Oh," Stiles' voice answered, "Yeah, I found him, he's here, I mean in Beacon Hills, he's you know, doing Derek stuff. Probably brooding somewhere."

"Stiles!" Allison exclaimed, "His house just burned down! Don't pick on him like that!"

"You're right, I should just go and be alone in my patheticness. I'm just gonna take care of that. Good night."

"Stiles!" Scott exclaimed.

"WHAT!"

The three traded confused glances to one another. "Is Derek okay?" Scott asked.

There was a brief pause, "Yes, he's fine. I'll explain tomorrow but I've got homework to do and I took too much Adderall when I got home and yeah. He said he'd find us tomorrow but had some sniffing to do."

"Sniffing?" Jackson probed.

"YES! Werewolves—they sniff!"

"Stiles," Allison said, "calm down and get some sleep, we're going to have a long day tomorrow."

"Of course." Stiles hung up the phone. Scott looked at his Blackberry in disbelief and looked up to Allison and Jackson.

"Was he just—" Allison trailed off.

"Yes." Jackson replied.

"He gets like that sometimes." Scott said.

X-X-X-X

Stiles threw his phone across the room. It thudded against the wall and fell to the floor. He turned to Derek, who was glaring at him. Stiles contemplated speaking, but the look on the Werewolf's face made him stay silent.

"Brooding," Derek's jaw clenched, "sniffing?"

Stiles opened his mouth several times to make words come out, but he had no luck.

Derek shook his head and rolled over on his side. Stiles, still on his back, stretched his arm out to wrap it around Derek. Before he touched him he changed his mind and placed his arm at his side. His eyes trailed up Derek's broad, muscular back, up to the wall behind his bed, and then up to the ceiling. He wanted to touch him, but feared that would be a mistake.

After a few minutes of his shifting in place, Derek rolled over onto his back. He could hear Stiles' heartbeat, feel his movements, and knew he wanted to be closer to him. His eyes were closed, but he slid his arm gently under Stiles' neck and pulled him over to sleep next to him. Stiles rested his head on Derek's shoulder and looked up at him. He slid up to kiss him again.

"No." Derek said plainly.

Stiles pressed his lips together and let his head rest just under Derek's. After a moment, Derek craned his neck down and took in a long breath.

"Did you just sniff me?" Stiles asked, partially confused.

"Shut up."

X-X-X-X

Allison snuck quietly into her dark home. She knew Jackson had spoken with her mother, but also knew that he had said nothing of the fire. She had hoped to get through the house without running in to her family, but as is the usual case she was out of luck. As soon as she closed the door her grandfather turned on the light.

"Sneaking in so late?"

Allison jumped, startled from this quickness of his words and the light, "My curfew is midnight, I'm not sneaking in."

"A midnight curfew?" Gerard turned his gaze to Victoria, who was standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

"When you trust your child you give them privileges."

Gerard nodded, "Well I don't trust her. Your daughter aided a Werewolf to attack a Hunter tonight."

Victoria cut her eyes at her daughter, "You what?"

Allison breathed in deeply, "She attacked us. And she set Derek's house on fire."

"The Alpha killed a citizen of this town," Gerard stated, "she was carrying out orders."

"Derek didn't do it."

Victoria snapped at Allison, "Allison! Do not argue with your grandfather."

"That was a Werewolf kill," Gerard replied, "and if it wasn't Derek then it was Scott."

"I know where both of them were last night," Allison said, "Scott was at the vet's and Derek was with one of our friends. He did say a Werewolf did it, but he wasn't sure who it was."

Victoria refused to let this conversation go on any further and ushered Allison to bed, quietly whispering "Be quiet." as Allison rushed up the stairs. Once she had closed her door Victoria turned to her father.

"Your daughter's involvement with the wolves is…troubling me."

Victoria grimaced at her father's words, "She gave you their alibis, and the Elders would be disgusted to know you nearly repeated Kate's crimes."

Gerard guffawed, "Really? I speak for the Elders, Victoria. The Elders control everything, even our lives. You would do well to remember that. If they summon Allison I will not be able to stop them. And at the rate she is going, they will call for her any day now."

Victoria stepped up to her father, "If you threaten her like that again you will no longer be allowed to stay here."

Gerard nodded, "Because you defied the Code doesn't mean that she will be able to." With that he walked off. Victoria grumbled under her breath as she went back into the kitchen.

X-X-X-X

"Stiles!"

Stiles jerked awake. He was lying on his stomach, his arms and legs sprawled greedily covering his bed. Derek was not at his side.

"Stiles!"

Stiles sat upright in his bed. His dad was at his door, knocking in an attempt to wake his son. Stiles looked around and saw Derek in the corner of his room, concealed from the door in the area in front of his closet. Derek put a finger over his lip and angrily pointed to the door. Stiles nodded and hopped off of the bed and ran to the door.

"Hey, daddy-o." Stiles had the door cracked open so that only his head was showing.

"What do you think you're doing?" Stiles' dad's expression showed him that he had done something wrong.

"I'm just waking up," Stiles said and faked a stretch and a yawn, "what do you think you're doing."

"Waking up my son who's 3 hours late to school."

Stiles looked at his wrist, which was absent a watch.

"What!"

"Yeah, get going!" the sheriff commanded, "I was out all night, I'm gonna go to bed and then I have to get back to the station. I probably won't be back until late tonight."

"Okay." Stiles shut his door.

"Stiles!"

"Yes," Stiles re-opened the door.

"Are you okay? You're not going to pester me about what happened?"

"A fire, right, at the Hale Estate."

"Scanner?"

"Yeah."

"Ask your buddy Scott if he's seen Derek."

"Why? Is he in some kind of trouble?" Stiles instinctively looked behind him, as if Derek were there waiting for his dad's response.

"I think we've wrongfully accused him enough this year," Stiles' dad said, "but we want to get his statement, he did live there."

"Well, I'll definitely ask."

"Thanks," Stiles' dad shot him one last uncomfortable glance before walking away.

Stiles shut his door and leaned against it, "Whew!"

Derek appeared in front of him so quickly that it made him jump.

"Yo, my dad's looking for you."

"I heard that."

"Are you going to talk to him?"

"Yes," Derek said, "I'm going to go to my house and act surprised that someone burned it to the ground."

Stiles nodded and hugged Derek, "I'm sorry man, I really am."

Stiles' arms were wrapped around Derek's, who was not returning the embrace.

"Get off of me."

Stiles did as instructed, "Okay." He looked at Derek, an uneasy silence between them. "I just hugged you, you know, because of last night. I thought—"

"Stop thinking and go with it." Derek ordered before walking to Stiles' window.

"Derek," Stiles protested, "are we going to talk about it?"

Derek shrugged, "We just did." He began to duck out of the window and onto the roof segment outside of it.

"Derek!"

"Yes?" Derek ducked his head back into the window.

"Are you coming back tonight?"

"Yes, Stiles." He said angrily before disappearing.

Stiles grinned and walked over to his full length mirror. He glanced at his body, only covered by white boxers. He lowered the waistband to inspect the bruises from his hips up to his shoulders. He thought about how much practice would suck the next day, and also about how much he wished Derek were standing with him with that perplexed and accusatory expression he translated into caring. Then Stiles thought about the fact he just spent a night making out and cuddling with another guy. He abruptly walked away from the mirror and rushed to get ready for school after that thought.

X-X-X-X

Stiles slammed his lunch tray down on the table. He was rushed to get to the school and nearly ran to the lunch room to find Allison, Scott, and Jackson sitting in their recently usual spot. There had been a time when they all sat together with the lacrosse boys, and others when Scott and Stiles sat separate. Since the Peter Hale fiasco they had spent their lunches hunched together, nearly whispering their entire conversation.

"You okay?" Allison narrowed her eyes at Stiles.

"Yeah," Stiles replied, "I overslept, what's up?"

Scott sniffed the air at the table, "Were you with Derek?"

Stiles rolled his eyes, "What is it with your sense of smell? I showered, put on some Gio, and you still smell him?"

"Yeah, and a lot of smoke."

"I had to pull Derek out of his house last night," Stiles explained, "whoever set the house on fire tried to kill Derek. He was chained up and stabbed with knives."

"Oh, God," Jackson said, an ounce of caring creeping into his voice. Everyone glanced at him oddly. That wasn't Jackson's usual character. "I mean, he's a damn Alpha, why would he let himself get chained up in a burning house?"

"I got him out," Stiles said, "and he's fine now."

"He wants to meet us today?" Scott asked.

"I don't know," Stiles said exasperatedly, "why don't you tell me what you know, huh?"

Allison shifted in her seat, "Well, the arsonist was a girl, a Hunter. We fought her before the cops came, she was good."

Scott nodded, "She fought with these knives and almost killed me, but Allison stopped her. She shot her twice with an arrow."

Jackson leaned in, "So do you have any idea who she is?"

Allison turned to look behind her, her eyes fixated on a giggly sandy-blonde haired girl chatting with Danny and some other lacrosse boys.

"Gabi?" Stiles questioned.

"Makes sense," Scott said, "she just moved here, got to know people really quickly, she has to be the new Hunter."

"That's a little obvious, don't you think?" Jackson objected.

"My family did it." Allison said.

"We need to get close to her, check her out," Scott commented, "Jackson, get close to her, see if you can find a wound on her shoulder or thigh."

As they were talking Gabi, Danny, TJ, and other lacrosse boys walked past their table. Gabi grabbed Stiles by the shoulders, making him tense in pain.

"HEY!" She said, all too giddily, "Will I see you all at TJ's tonight?"

The group nodded, giving uncomfortable grins. Jackson did not, he winked at her, "You'll see me, definitely."

Gabi smiled and continued to walk past with the boys. Once she had left the cafeteria Jackson turned to them, "At the party tonight I'll see if I can't wiggle her clothes off."

Allison rolled her eyes and looked to Stiles. Scott and Jackson got up to turn in their trays and head to their next class. For a moment Stiles and Allison were alone.

"Stiles," Allison's eyes showed her concern, "are you okay?"

"Yes," he said through a mouth full of food.

Allison leaned up and grabbed his shoulder tightly, watching him nearly choke on his food as he tried to release himself from her grasp.

"Are you sure?"

Stiles swallowed and grunted, "When I went in to Derek's place to get him last night, I almost died. There. I got him out and ran back in to get something he wanted, the house started falling down around me, I jumped and ended up falling down the stairs."

Allison's mouth hung open in shock, "You saved his life and then he told you to back in and get something, like it's that easy to walk through fire!"

"No," Stiles shook his head, "I knew he would want it. So I went back, he was still unconscious."

Allison raised an eyebrow, her ears caught an odd inflection in Stiles' voice, "I didn't know you and Derek were that close."

"We're not," Stiles grabbed his tray to signal it was time to leave, "but he—I didn't. We're not close, he's an asshole."

As Stiles walked to return his tray Allison watched him. After all she had seen between Derek and Stiles, which was limited, she did not think they had the relationship to risk their lives over belongings. The Stiles she knew a month ago would never have run into a burning house to save that Werewolf. It seemed, along with everything else changing in Beacon Hills, relationships were shifting. She was just curious what kind of relationship was brewing between the two.

X-X-X-X

Stiles, Scott, and Allison entered TJ's party late. Not fashionably late, extremely late. It was nearly midnight and most of their close friends had succumbed to drunken stupor. Red solo cups littered the floor, music blared so loudly they feared the cops would arrive at any moment, and his living room floor turned into a bizarre dance floor over-the-clothes mating ground.

Allison and Scott parted ways to go find Jackson and see if he had made any progress with Gabi. Stiles made a B-line straight to the hunch punch. He said hello to a few people along the way and had an off-rhythm momentary grinding session with a girl from his Chemistry class to the music of T-Pain before he managed to get a cup. He chugged it back immediately, his face wincing at its potency, before filling another one.

"Be careful, man." Danny said as he appeared beside Stiles with a beer in hand.

"Danny!" Stiles exclaimed, "What's up, dude?"

Danny shook his head, "Just watching. Trevor couldn't make it tonight so I'm flying solo."

"What about Gabi?" Stiles asked.

"She's off in a back room with Jackson," Danny shrugged, "he's moving pretty quick on her, even for him."

So Jackson was making some headway, just not in the way Stiles had suspected. He stood silently by Danny for a moment gazing on the teenage wasteland in front of him. Stiles looked at Danny and thought for a moment. Danny was openly gay, and had been dating Trevor since a few weeks before the winter formal. He didn't know if what he and Derek were was considered gay, but Danny would have a good opinion on it.

"Danny," Stiles began, "can I ask you something?"

"Yes," Danny replied, "Stiles you are attractive to gay guys, I'm sure of it. Not to me, but I go for the more metro type."

"No," Stiles grinned, remembering that moment from Chemistry class, "I mean if I ask you this can it stay between us for now? I don't really have anyone else to talk to about this."

Danny was intrigued, he turned to face Stiles and took a sip of his Blue Moon, "What?"

Stiles finished his cup of hunch punch and poured himself another one, he would need the edge of his next words taken off, "I like girls, right. I had a huge crush on Lydia for years, but what if there was a guy I liked? Liked like that?"

Danny raised an eyebrow, "Is it me?"

"No!" Stiles exclaimed, a little too intently, "I mean, not you, but you're nice, but not my type. I go for the older, more broody type."

Danny tilted his head to the side, "Are you serious about this, Stiles?"

"Yeah, man."

"Okay, it's hard to tell with you," Danny shrugged, "If you like a guy like that then you like a guy like that. That's all there is to it."

Stiles nodded, "But, does that make me…you know…not that I have a problem with it, I just never pictured myself like that."

Danny laughed and put his hand on Stiles' shoulder, "Dude, labels are old. You like who you like. If you like girls but are into a guy, you may be straight with an exception. Or bisexual. Or gay. Or whatever. It doesn't matter. You're going to freak yourself out by thinking about it too much."

"I think a lot," Stiles didn't say anything, but Danny's hand on his shoulder was causing a bit of pain, what was it with the shoulder grab?

"Well, don't," Danny said, "you don't have to tell anyone, or come out, or anything like that. If you don't stop analyzing and start enjoying whatever you have with whoever you're talking about the relationship will end just because of confusion."

Stiles nodded, finishing another cup and filling up another.

"And," Danny continued, "that should be your last one. Tony had five of those and he got knocked out for peeing on Britney."

Stiles laughed and nodded again, "Thanks, man. This stays between us, right?"

"Sure thing," Danny walked off into the wasteland.

So he didn't have to define himself? That helped him out a lot. Since he had never even been attracted to a guy before he had no idea how to handle the situation. Danny suggested he handle it just like Derek had mentioned that morning. Did that mean Derek had been with other guys? Ordinarily Stiles would have continued his train of thoughts until he felt as inadequate and inexperienced as possible, but instead opted to return home. He was oddly excited to see Derek again.

In the back of the house, Scott and Allison were searching for Jackson. He hadn't responded to any texts but several people said they saw him and Gabi at some point. As they worked their way through the party they eventually found themselves upstairs. They checked TJ's bedroom and his parents' bedroom only to find their classmates occupied them. When they checked the guestroom, they saw Jackson and Gabi making against the wall.

"Oh! Sorry!" Allison exclaimed.

Gabi giggled, "Sherokay Awidon." Her slurring made her English a peculiar dialect of mumbles.

Jackson looked to the two, his badass half grin spreading across his face. He cocked his head up, as if to say "Hey," and then mouthed "She's not the Hunter." The two nodded and closed the door. When they did, Jackson lifted Gabi off of the ground. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms around his neck as he carried her to the bed. He laid her down, pinned her wrists together above her head with one hand, and began to kiss her. In moments her lips became motionless. Jackson pulled back and moaned. Gabi had passed out.

X-X-X-X

Stiles stumbled into his house. The walk home, only a few blocks, had proved enough for the four cups of hunch punch to sink into his system. He clumsily unlocked his door, stomped through the house, and up the stairs to his room. When he opened the door he expected to find Derek, but instead the room was vacant.

"Hmph," Stiles groaned as he walked over to his window. He pushed it open to make it easier for Derek to get in and went directly to his bed. He sat down and stared at the window for what felt like an hour, but in actuality was a mere 5 minutes. Within 5 more minutes his eyes started to close, the lids too heavy to lift open. After 5 more minutes he was loudly snoring, sleeping on his side.

X-X-X-X

The strong vibration of Stiles' phone forced him awake. Early morning, dim, sunlight was pouring into his room. Despite it's low intensity, it nearly blinded him and actually split his head by strengthening his hangover. He winced in pain and reached for his phone. He glanced at it, squinting as if it were too bright to look at, and read a text from his dad.

_Didn't make it home last night, be sure to lock up before practice. I love you._

Stiles groaned and placed the phone on his nightstand. The time on his clock read 7:30 AM. He was supposed to be at the lacrosse field by 9:00, which gave him just enough time to not recover from his aching head. Stiles went to get out of the bed, but then realized there was an arm wrapped around him.

He silently chuckled and ran his hands along Derek's forearm, tracing his fingertips down to his hand and back up to elbow. Stiles could remember the disappointment he felt the night before when Derek wasn't there. That disappointment wasn't enough to match the satisfaction of having Derek's body pressed up against his. Derek's hot breath flushed steadily against Stiles' neck, his skin nearly a furnace. Despite the slight sweats Stiles was experiencing, he was sure this was the best wake-up he had ever experienced.

Stiles reached behind him, his hand softly landing on the back of Derek's head, and the wolf grunted slightly as he woke up. Stiles rolled over to be face to face with Derek.

"Good morning," Stiles grinned and leaned in to kiss him.

Derek leaned back to avoid Stiles' lips, "You smell horrible. Your breath is even worse."

Stiles sucked his teeth, "Thanks." He began to get out of the bed.

"Lay back down." Derek commanded.

Stiles glanced at Derek, "This whole 'You do what I say' routine is going to get old fast, buddy."

Derek forced a mean smile, "Please." He said the word through gritted teeth.

Stiles rolled his eyes and laid back down. Derek pulled him close to him and kissed his neck, running his hands softly over Stiles' bruised back.

"I've got to go to practice all day today," Stiles said, "but I think we should all meet together after and talk about what happened. We have a lot of questions for you."

Derek mumbled in agreement as his lips trailed along the base of Stiles' neck, "Nothing I can clear up now?" He stopped kissing the boy and looked him in the eyes.

"Well," Stiles said, "since you're here. I'm guessing you'll be here for a while."

Derek shrugged, "As long as you want me here."

"What about my dad?"

"I'll hear him or smell him when he comes home. I can hide easily."

"Okay," Stiles said.

"Is that okay?"

"As long as you're sleeping with me every night." Stiles smiled and leaned in to kiss him. Derek pulled away again and pointed to the bathroom.

"Shower, now."

X-X-X-X

_Next Chapter_

_Dirty Little Secret_

_The lacrosse team has its final weekend practice before the State Championship. Allison investigates her mother's urgency to leave the hospital, Derek looks more in to the new pack that is stalking Beacon Hills, and the group convenes to clear up their unanswered questions. Allison learns a bit more during the meeting than she anticipated._

Author's Note: I'm going to be updating as frequently as possible over the next few days, because I'll be leaving for NYC for New Year's on the 29th. Hopefully I'll get a few chapters done so I can quickly upload them while I'm gone. Thanks for the feedback and hope you all had an amazing holiday!


	7. Dirty Little Secret

_Chapter Seven_

_Dirty Little Secret_

"Stilinski!" Finstock shouted from across the field, "If you're going to start next Saturday I need to see some anger. Rage Stilinski! Rage!"

Stiles heaved; attempts to catch his breath failed him. He glared at Jackson who stood next to him on the field, "Thanks for helping me, man, I feel golden now that Finstock won't lay off of me. I'm so happy right now, ecstatic! I'm so happy I don't know if I can show him my rage!"

Jackson slapped Stiles on the back, "Shut up and play. You wasted your first chance at starting and you're not going to waste another now on sarcasm."

Stiles groaned from the slap as Finstock blew his whistle. He watched the offensive and defensive strategies he had crafted play out on the field. In truth, Finstock could have filled the team with blind hamsters and the State title would be secured. Why? Scott and Jackson. Ever since they brushed their rivalry to the side they now worked as one unit, relentlessly assaulting until they scored. Danny was lucky enough to get in on the action occasionally, and today Jackson was making it a point to get Stiles in as well.

"Fifteen minutes!" Finstock blew his whistle for a break. The boys had been practicing in the cold and dry winter air for nearly 4 hours before their first break. Scott crashed down on the bench beside Allison, feigning exhaustion when he was actually ready for more. Jackson and Stiles filtered in beside Allison.

"So," Scott grinned at Stiles, "how does it feel?"

Stiles glared at his Beta best friend, "Horrible. My shoulders and back feel like they're going to break."

Allison sighed, "I'm sorry, Stiles, but it'll heal by the game next week, right?"

"I hope so." Stiles began to fix the netting on his stick, "What happened with Gabi last night?"

Jackson shook his head, "She got wasted, so I couldn't finish the job. But I checked her thigh and her shoulder, no wound. Not even a bruise."

"Huh," Allison sighed, "I could have sworn it would be her. My parents will know, regardless, my granddad jumped down my throat about helping Scott fight against the Hunter. Whoever she is, they know her."

"The Council authorized an attack?" Stiles asked.

"Yeah," Allison looked around before dropping her voice to a low whisper, "they thought Derek was responsible for the murder, apparently investigation wasn't needed."

"You think whoever killed that guy figured they would assume it was him?" Jackson questioned.

The four sat and thought for a moment before Allison replied, "I don't know."

Scott had one ear focused on the conversation, but another was attuned to a different group entirely. A few feet away Danny and Gabi were chatting feverishly.

"You have to do this! For me!" She protested.

"No," Danny refused, "I can't."

"DANNY!"

"WHAT!"

"You and him haven't been the same, you told me that yourself. I won't feel right hooking up with him if you and him aren't cool."

"We are cool, Gabi."

"Then why do you get that look on your face when I bring him up? He's your best friend, Danny, dudes can talk about this kind of stuff."

"Fine," Danny said, "I'll talk to him, but I don't know what to say."

"Just tell him what you told me, that you feel like he's being distant. Figure out why."

Danny agreed, "Okay, I'll do it later. Not during practice, though."

"Until then can we get our freak on without you hating me?"

"Breed away."

Scott nudged Jackson, "You and Gabi?"

Jackson arched his eyebrow, "What?"

"She's talking about you over there, something about getting your freak on?"

"Let's just say I left a good impression." Jackson grinned.

Finstock blew his whistle and the boys jumped up to return to practice. Stiles did so with a little less "gusto" than the rest.

"I'll see you later," Allison said as she kissed Scott on the cheek, "I'm gonna go home for a bit." She waved her goodbyes to everyone before returning to her car.

X-X-X-X

Derek crouched low to the ground. For hours he had been sniffing the area around his destroyed home, picking up the high and low scents of the estate. His attacker was much stronger than any Hunter he had met before, and she seemed to relish in the kill more so than Kate Argent. He remembered her squeals of joy as they fought, intensified only when he phased. It was then that his memory faded. How did such a small woman take him down? Her physical strength baffled him.

As he drew in the smells around him he could distinctly catch Scott, Allison, Stiles, and the Hunter's scents. There was something else, another odor foreign to Derek's nostrils. He was still a young Werewolf, despite being the Alpha. It took him several minutes to figure out what the odor was and why it disturbed him the way it did. The odor was that of another Alpha. The putrid stench was strong, very strong. Not just one Alpha had been present the night of his attack…there were two: a male and female.

In an animalistic instinct Derek dropped even closer to the ground. He closed his eyes and saw them, the two Alphas, watching the fire with others. Flashes of other Werewolves filled his head. He could pick out the trail of five Betas, and an Omega. There was something else, a scent he recognized only barely. He stood up from his spot. If he was right, this meant this pack was not only large, but very old. Maybe his contact was right, maybe he did need to build a pack. Even the Argents could not take down a pack that large.

X-X-X-X

Allison sat in her father's office fiddling with a damaged assault rifle. Her father was nested behind his desk organizing paperwork. Allison had entered just to say hello, but as they sat in silence her curiosity got the better of her.

"Daddy?"

Chris looked up from his paperwork, "Yeah, honey?"

"Why was mom acting the way she was in the hospital?"

Chris smiled, "That's your mom, Allison. You've never seen her in a hospital or doctor's office because she never needed to go. Even when gave birth to you, she insisted on a home birth."

Allison cringed at the thought of her mother giving birth, "Okay, but why was she so resistant? She seemed almost…scared to be there."

Chris thought for a moment, "Your mother has always been afraid of mortality, that's why she doesn't go out on the Hunt. She's worried someone will die and you'll be left alone. She comes off as a tough woman, but she's got her hang-ups."

Her father was very matter-of-fact when he spoke. He never said anything more than what needed to be said, unless he wanted to get a very specific point across. She wanted to probe him further, but the answer she had wanted had been given to her. Allison wasn't sure what she was expecting, but figured she wouldn't have known even if her father had said it. When her phone vibrated she jumped out of her father's office chair and checked her message.

"Bye, daddy," she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, "I'm gonna go hang out with Scott for a while."

He nodded, "Please avoid your grandfather, for me."

Allison grinned as she scurried out of the room.

X-X-X-X

Stiles sat next to Derek, their backs against the still standing foundation of the otherwise destroyed house. They were facing opposite from the road as to conceal their proximity to one another. Stiles drove out to Derek's house as soon as practice was over and spared no time complaining about the physical strain he had put himself through. The whining, though grinding on Derek's nerves, paid off. Stiles revealed he had made first line for the State game.

"My dad's gonna be really proud," Stiles said, "I've been so caught up in wolf affairs that I haven't paid much attention to him lately."

"Mmhmm," Derek mumbled, his arm locked around Stiles as the boy talked to him.

"You don't have anything to say?"

Derek looked at Stiles, "You smell better."

Stiles wrinkled his brow in confusion, "I showered after practice, but didn't get the chance to put on some Gio."

"I like your scent better without it."

"Thanks," Stiles said, noting the awkward compliment he had just received.

He felt perfectly comfortable in Derek's embrace. Though two weeks ago he never would have pictured them together like this, he rather enjoyed it. But Derek was an enigma. He only spoke when he had something to say, a conversation skill he probably picked up from being alone for so long. He wasn't a very warm personality, even with the great hook up they had the other night Derek still wouldn't be Stiles' first pick for a getaway. This bothered him. There were many things he didn't know about Derek, and though he was heart-breakingly beautiful there were some things he needed to know. For the moment, Stiles decided he would hold back and follow Danny's advice.

"You're thinking about something," Derek stated.

"Yeah," Stiles shrugged, "just about enjoying the moment."

Derek shook his head slightly, not enough for Stiles to notice. The boy always felt on edge, as if he were waiting for an attack. In ways, Stiles was more jumpy in that moment than he was when they were arguing. Was he doing something wrong? It had been so long since he felt anything for anyone like he did for Stiles. Derek wondered if he had forgotten how to be close to someone. Derek perked his ears as he heard cars approaching. He shook his head as he rose from the ground, Stiles was rubbing off on him. He hadn't spent so much time thinking about one thing since he spent years plotting his revenge on Kate.

Scott, Allison, and Jackson arrived in Allison's Mazda. She preferred driving it due to the large weapon stock she kept concealed in the trunk. They got out of the car and approached the house, Derek and Stiles were waiting on them in the front. The view of the once large, gloomy estate had been reduced to mangled black pieces of wood and ash. Allison was too distracted by the Hunter on the night to fully realize what had happened; even her blind optimism approach to the recent disasters was too weak to prevent her spirit from dampening.

"Derek," Allison said quietly as she hugged him, "are you okay?"

Derek grimaced at the Hunter's touch, but patted her back out of respect for Scott. "I'm fine."

Allison moved back to stand beside Scott, her arms cross tightly in front of her.

"So, Stiles told me you had questions." Derek's words were pointed to Scott, but the Beta did not speak.

"Yeah," Allison spoke up, "a lot, actually." She elbowed Scott when he did not speak up.

Scott blinked his brown eyes and broke the fiery stare between him and his Alpha, "What do you know about the Mother?"

Derek laughed, "The Mother doesn't exist. She's a mythological goddess, nothing else."

"Goddess?" Allison questioned.

"Yes. The Mother's name is Nyx in mythology. The Goddess of the Night. Werewolves reside in the shadows of humanity, therefore she was revered as the one who birthed our race."

"If she doesn't exist then why does the Hunter Council claim she's born in to every generation? Why does the Hunter Council want to catch her?" Stiles asked.

Derek glared at Stiles, as if he was enraged that Stiles had known about this without telling him. Allison caught the intensity of the glare, but the expressions on Jackson's and Scott's faces told her they did not.

"I wasn't aware the Hunter's Council thought she was real."

"Well they do!" Scott exclaimed, "What do you know!"

Derek's eyes flared red, "I don't know anything other than what I told you. My family told me she was a myth!"

Allison touched Scott's arm to calm him down and Stiles stepped between the Alpha and Beta, "Let's calm this down," he said, "c'mon guys, there's no need to go at each other like this."

"What about Dr. Deaton?" Allison asked, her grip still on Scott, "Did you know that he's a fairy?"

The oddity of the statement returned Derek's eyes to their normal color. He looked to Stiles, clearly confused about what Allison had claimed.

"Not that kind of fairy," Stiles shook his head, "the immortal kind."

Derek's expression was one of utter confusion, "He told you this?"

"Not me," Allison said, "Scott."

"He told me the night of the murder, when I phased. He said he heard a call that he couldn't explain, but he was sure it was what changed me." Scott's words were chopped from his frustration.

"I think you need to check his sanity," Derek said, "I would remember a 'call' that forced us to change. I changed intentionally that night."

Allison continued to explain that they suspected Lydia could be the Mother, if she existed. Though she tried to rationalize with Derek, he was adamant that the Mother did not exist. Their conversation was coming to stand-still until Allison questioned him about the murder and his house fire.

"We fought a Hunter, and I know the Hunter Council issued the order to kill you, they thought you were the murderer."

Derek sighed deeply, "That Hunter, she was strong. Thanks for clearing my name with the Argents, but you have to see the kind of people Hunters are."

Allison nodded, "That aside, was it just the Hunter?"

Derek shook his head, "The pack that killed that man was here also, I don't know what time, but I could smell them. It's a large pack, two Alphas, five Betas, and an Omega."

"An Omega?" Jackson questioned, speaking for the first time since they arrived.

"An Omega is the weakest member of the pack. They don't heal as fast, their transformation isn't as distinct as a Beta or Alpha, and they are usually used as the punching bag of the pack." Stiles said.

Derek eyed him.

"When we were looking for a cure this doctor who was obsessed with Werewolves filled us in."

Derek shook his head, "Stiles is right, but they're more than a punching bag. They're bullied, beat up on, tortured, raped, anything the pack needs to relieve stress or raise spirits."

"And they stay with the pack?" Jackson asked, utterly baffled by the description.

"They're trained, extensively. We never had an Omega, most packs don't. Only those closest to their animalistic side do. I've only met one Omega before. He had forgotten his name, how to speak, reacted only in the way the pack trained him to. He didn't even seem alive."

The silence among the group was an uneasy one. The images of what an Omega wolf experiences had overtaken them all. Allison inhaled to speak, but Derek held up his hand to stop her. He sniffed the air and Scott began to do the same.

"We're being watched," Derek stated, "by the pack."

Stiles backed away from Derek, "Are they—"

"No," Derek said, "they're leaving. They were just listening."

"We should go after them!" Scott insisted.

"No," Derek replied, "We're two wolves, a Hunter, and two humans. They're 8 wolves strong, we'd be slaughtered."

"If they were here the night you were attacked then why not attack now?" Allison asked, "I mean if they wanted you dead too.

Derek glared at the brunette, "If I knew that we would be much better off. You all go home."

"Derek—" Stiles began.

"Go home." Derek interrupted, his words a final command that did not allow for protest. Stiles' face was obviously frustrated, but he did as instructed and walked off toward his car.

Allison examined Derek's face, analyzing their interaction. "Hey, Stiles, can you take Scott and Jackson home? I have something to do."

"What do you have to do?" Scott asked.

"Just go," Allison instructed, "trust me."

"Sure!" Stiles called out from his Jeep, "Get in guys, and make sure you do what you're told." His last sentence dripped with distain.

As the boys drove away Allison turned back to Derek, who gave her an obviously frustrated look. "I meant all of you should go home."

"I won't take up much of your apparently important time," Allison said, slight sarcasm in her tone, "I just wanted to make sure you knew that Stiles isn't as resilient as you. What you say to him really can hurt him."

Derek's frustrated face melted to an inquisitive one. He cocked his head to one side, "And?"

Allison laughed, "I'm sorry. I may be seriously over reaching here, but it's kind of obvious to me that you and Stiles have something going on. I don't know how intense it is, but it's something more than friendship. Am I right?"

Derek examined the Hunter. He had never given her much thought outside of her family lineage and the distractions she provided for Scott. Derek, always a skilled observer, had noticed that she was very true to her morals and intents. She had a strong character. In many ways she was very similar to Laura. Maybe that was why Derek struggled so much with the young Argent, because the memory of his sister was not far removed from his mind.

"Yes." Derek's word was soft, quiet, nearly a whisper.

"Okay," Allison smiled to Derek, who still had a perplexed pout on his face, "the boys have no idea. Both of them are a little slow on the pick-up, but I won't tell anyone. Just, please, try to be a little nicer. I know that's not really your personality, just try."

Derek nodded.

Allison stepped closer to him. He watched her moves as if she were an attacker, but did not move an inch. She took both of his hands into hers and looked up at him, "And I know talking isn't your style, but if you ever need to, just know I'm here. You've been through a lot…almost too much to keep to yourself. I want to be your friend, Derek."

Allison had never been that physically close to him. Derek's eyes trailed over her face. Though she looked nothing like his sister, her eyes sparkled the same as his sister's once did. Part of him wanted to lash out in anger, but the other couldn't bear the thought of being crude to someone so similar to someone he loved.

"Thank you," he said simply.

Allison felt quite victorious in that moment. She smiled widely, almost goofily, and let go of his hands. "You're welcome." She walked off to her car, "Bye, Derek." She waved as she started her car and drove off.

Derek had tucked his hands in his jacket pocket, but took one out to wave goodbye to the girl.

X-X-X-X

Derek, cloaked by the night, carefully treaded through the Stilinski lawn. He snuck around the back of the house and leapt six feet into the air to grab onto a tree branch near Stiles' bedroom window. He swung his legs up to land on the overhang in front of the window. Derek crept up to the window. Stiles' desk light was on. He was hunched over his laptop with a textbook open on his desk.

Derek sighed. As he traced the scent of the pack around in circles through the woods he spent most of his time thinking about Allison's insight. He understood how his tone could be too harsh, but everything he does is with the best intentions. As he watched Stiles doing homework he realized he wanted Stiles to know that. He wanted Stiles to understand him, which he knew was no easy task.

He tapped lightly on the window. Stiles turned around and connected glances with Derek, then turned back around. Derek scoffed, trying to keep his temper down. He tapped a bit harder. Stiles turned around and shook his head before going to back to his work. Derek tapped harder, and when Stiles looked he made a motion for the window to be let up. Stiles still refused. Regardless of their words from earlier, Stiles was being unreasonable.

Derek pushed the window up, breaking the small plastic lock at the top. He slipped through the window as Stiles stood to object.

"Not too loud," Derek advised, "your dad's home."

Stiles shook his head, "Unbelievable! You belittle me out there and you're going to do it here?"

"I didn't do that on purpose," Derek said, "I was just trying to protect you."

"I was close to Peter we could have braided each other's hair before he died! I don't need your protection!"

"But you do," Derek frowned, "if those Werewolves had attacked out there you would be dead. Do you think I could live with myself if you died?"

Stiles stopped, he hadn't expected that last sentence, "I wouldn't have died."

"Yes," Derek put his hands gently on Stiles' shoulders, "you would. It's not easy for me to admit this, but I couldn't fight them if I tried."

Stiles slid Derek's hands off of him and backed away from him, "Derek, I'm glad you want to protect me, but I'm not a child. You're treating me like a kid, talking to me like you own me, I don't like that."

Derek backed away and sat on Stiles' windowsill, "Stiles, I'm sorry." Derek did not look at Stiles as he spoke, "I lost everything a long time ago, and the only family I had I left here, alone, and she ended up dead. Whatever I say, and however I say it, please just know I'm trying. I'm trying to keep you safe and make you happy, but I won't always do it the way you deserve."

Stiles was leaning against his wall. His arms were crossed over his chest, but with Derek's words they fell to his side. He walked over, Derek's eyes were still on the floor. Stiles lifted Derek's head up to face him and grinned, "Maybe sometimes I'll deserve the harsh words, maybe." He grinned and pulled Derek up to stand.

Derek wrapped his hand around Stiles' waist as they began to kiss. They moved toward the bed, forgetting to close the window or blinds. In their heat of passion they did not see the pair of yellow eyes gleaming in the night. The pair of eyes fixated on the two boys, watching them with ferocity. The pair of eyes that slowly grew closer to the Stilinski house as the night pressed on.

X-X-X-X

_Next Chapter_

_Damaged_

_Derek and Stiles awake to a surprise. The Argents hunt a murderous Werewolf. Derek and Scott have their first one-on-one since Peter's death. Jackson takes Gabriella out on a date._


	8. Damaged

_Chapter Eight_

_Damaged_

Derek opened his eyes when he caught it. The scent, not that of Stiles' father, but that of another person he knew, filled Stiles' room. He sat up, moving so swiftly that he barely rattled the bed. He sniffed the air around him and rose to his feet. He walked through the room to the source of the scent. When he arrived at Stiles' window he found a letter waiting on the windowsill. How she had found him there he did now know, but she had always been adept at tracking Derek down.

"Derek?" Stiles lifted his head, his eyes squinting in the early morning sunlight, "What is it?"

"Nothing." Derek said. His back was to Stiles as he opened the letter, written on a small notecard.

_Wednesday, Beacon Hills Preserve._

"Come back to bed," Stiles' words sounded as though he were sleep-talking.

Derek closed the open window and slid the notecard in the pocket of his gym shorts. As he crawled back in bed with Stiles he could only imagine what she had to say to him.

X-X-X-X

_If you keep looking at me like that I'm gonna tell Scott you're eye-raping me._

Allison grinned as she slid a bit deeper into her desk chair. She had attempted to keep what she knew about Stiles and Derek to herself, but if Derek knew then what would be the harm in telling Stiles? It would be nice to have someone to talk to about the quirks of dating a Werewolf. Most others wouldn't understand the frustration their heightened sense of smell and hearing could cause.

_I'm gonna tell you something._

Allison looked back to Stiles to see him rolling his eyes.

_I'm dying in anticipation. That was a wasted text._

_ I know about you and Derek._

Allison nearly laughed when she heard Stiles' book drop to the floor.

"Mr. Stilinski," their English teacher said from the front of the room, "is there a problem?"

"Isn't there always?" Stiles retorted in a less-than-joking tone.

As their English teacher went on about her lesson Allison's phone vibrated.

_You know about our destructively unhealthy argumentative hot mess of a rivalry? Everyone does._

_ I talked to Derek on Saturday night. I could see it when you two were arguing, he just agreed._

_ WHAT! OMG you can't tell Scott!_

_ Are you kidding me? This is too good to share, I've always wanted someone to vent with who also dates Werewolves._

_ K._

Allison looked back at Stiles and glared at him playfully.

_That was a wasted text, Stiles. So, have you always been gay?_

The book dropped again.

"Mr. Stilinski!" the teacher exclaimed.

"I don't yell at you when slam your pointer on that board!"

Everyone turned to look at Stiles. Scott and Allison were particularly amused. The teacher folded her arms and stared at him.

"I'm a horrible student, I'm sorry."

She continued with the lesson and he sank down into his desk a little bit lower.

_I'm not gay, I just like Derek._

_ That's cool, I'm not straight I just like Scott._

Stiles smiled and put his phone in his pocket. It vibrated once more due to another text from Allison.

_;)_

X-X-X-X

Allison got home shortly after lacrosse practice. She and Stiles hadn't had a chance to follow up their text conversation during English class, but she wanted to talk to him. Derek and him were oddly cute together, and she ventured as far as to think that she should have seen it coming. She slipped her key into the lock of her front door to find that it was already cracked open.

Allison walked in to a vacant foyer with screaming and crashing noises coming from the kitchen. She dropped her bag and instantly ran to the source of the noise. She found her uncle, Peyton, being held down by her mother and her cousin, Terry, while her father poured a clear liquid into an open wound on his torso.

"Peyton!" Allison yelled as she rushed toward the island where he lay.

Gerard grabbed Allison and held her back, "Let your father work. Your uncle was attacked."

"By what? A Werewolf?" Allison questioned.

Gerard nodded, "There was a murder during school today, a couple killed in their own home."

As Peyton's screams died down her family backed away from him. The open wound was actually a bite mark, which was still smoking from the liquid poured into it. Victoria moved promptly to bandage it up.

"A couple?" Allison questioned.

"Yes," Chris said, "as soon as we heard it on the scanner we began tracking the wolves. There weren't enough of us out there and we were attacked. It was not far from the Preserve."

Allison hugged her father, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, but this pack is large. We only found Betas, and there were four of them." Chris released his daughter and picked up his crossbow.

"Are you going back out there?" Allison asked.

"Yes."

"What! You see what they did to Uncle Peyton!"

"I'm fine, love," Peyton said as he sat up, "we've all been bitten before, that's what the aconite base is for."

"Aconite base?" Allison asked, confused.

"It cleans the damage from a bite." Victoria said as she began to scrub the blood off of their kitchen counter, "You pour it on the wound and drink some of it and it will prevent the transformation…if the wolf who bit you was weak enough."

"But Beta's can't change humans." Allison stated.

"You can never be too safe," Chris said as he walked out of the room.

Allison ran after her father, "Daddy!" She followed him up the stairs into his office. Once inside he began pulling out guns and monkshood shells. "You can't go back out there!"

"I can, and I will," Chris kissed his daughter on the forehead, "we were foolish to go alone. Your grandfather has called in reinforcements."

"I hope it's a lot," Allison said, "you're dealing with a full pack. Derek told me. Two Alphas, five Betas, and an Omega."

Chris gritted his teeth and put his hands on his daughter's shoulders, pulling her to look him in the eye, "You know I don't think Derek or Scott are bad guys, but you have to stop mentioning them. Your grandfather is enflamed enough with your involvement and—"

"Mom told me."

Chris nodded, "Then please listen to us. You're not ready for the Call and we're not ready to have you go. Most Hunters don't even find out about the Hunt until their twenties. You're too young for this, baby."

Allison didn't like the blatant disregard for what she saw as her ability, but as she had promised her mother she nodded and smiled. When they returned downstairs there were people there that Allison did not recognize. Gerard was briefing them on the occurrence at the door.

"Chris," Gerard stated as he met them in the foyer, "this is Giovanni, Marcella, Carlo, and Adonna."

Chris nodded and shook their hands, "Thanks for coming."

Allison examined the four newcomers. Giovanni was a tall, broad shouldered, beast of a man. Marcella and Adonna were very petite, nearly the same size as Allison. Carlo was a bit smaller than Giovanni. After listening to the briefing she could tell that Giovanni was this Hunter Clan's leader.

"Where's Ricky?" Gerard asked.

The four shook their heads. Giovanni spoke for them, "He's dead."

"A fallen Hunter," Gerard sighed, "I apologize, the Elders had not informed me."

"Let's move on," Adonna spoke up, "do you have the bullets?"

Chris nodded.

Allison hugged her father, grandfather, wounded uncle, and cousin before they left. She watched beside her mom as the Hunters loaded up into their vehicles to pursue this new pack. As Adonna climbed in to Giovanni's black Suburban Allison caught a glimpse of her small, silver throwing knives. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as the small convoy of SUVs pulled away.

X-X-X-X

Jackson parked his car in the small space of spots near the Beacon Hills Preserve Park. He switched his Porsche off and stood out in the small concrete area in front of the numerous trails in the park. In the space next to him Gabi stood holding a picnic basket next to a fire red Corvette.

"You made it!" Gabi, practicing a slightly preppy upspeak, walked up and kissed Jackson lightly.

"Us jocks never turn down free food," he grinned.

"Well you're going to love this then." Gabi smiled and took Jackson's hand to lead him into the Preserve.

X-X-X-X

Scott followed a very weak trail of scents as he followed Derek through the woods. Derek called him to the woods to help him track the pack, and to teach him the basics of tracking and identifying scents. Ordinarily Scott would not have agreed, but with the magnitude of the situation he would have to put his anger at Derek aside and attempt to work together. Derek spent a few hours barking orders at Scott. Neither of them spoke about what was truly on their minds. Instead, they focused on the task at hand: tracking the pack.

Once Scott realized they were walking in a very large and diverted circle he stopped, "We've already been here! Are you as good at this as you think you are?"

Derek sighed, "Actually I am. This pack is much better, though. They're good at hiding their tracks."

"So how are we supposed to track them?"

"You keep going until you pick up on something that leads you somewhere else. It's difficult in the beginning, but once you get used to it you may find something that I haven't."

"Fine." Scott continued to smell his surroundings.

Derek stopped and stared at the lean Beta.

"What?" Scott barked as he glared back at Derek.

"Just say it, Scott."

"What?"

"What you're thinking," Derek eyed him, "because like it or not we're stuck together. We're the only two Werewolves in this town who aren't murderous psychopaths. We're going to have to work together."

"I just don't understand!" Scott exclaimed, "You knew I wanted a cure, you knew I didn't want this, why would you kill him!"

Derek shook his head, "So they haven't told you?"

"Told me what?"

"Scott," Derek sighed, "if I had given you the cure, you would have died."

"What?" Scott crinkled his brow in frustration, "How do you know that?"

"Because," Derek said, "no one has ever survived a curative attempt. At least not in this century. The cure was created by medieval, nearly ancient, Hunters. They claimed that a mix of an Alpha's blood and wolfsbane would cure someone inflicted with the curse, but all recorded attempts have killed the wolf, not cured him."

Scott sighed, "If you knew that then why would you keep me hanging on for a cure?"

"Would you have believed me if I told you then?" Derek tucked is hands in his pockets, "Do you even believe me now?"

Scott sighed, "I don't know."

Derek nodded, "Okay, then. Now that's out of the way, let's keep moving."

Scott agreed and they continued to search for the scent. As the afternoon turned to evening, and eventually dusk set in the woods, they had yet to find a new clue. Not until a howl resounded in the distance.

X-X-X-X

Gabi pushed Jackson off of her, "We should get out of here, it's almost dark."

Jackson grinned, "Why? Are you scared of the dark?"

Gabi laughed, "I just don't feel comfortable being out too late, you know, with that murder the other day."

Jackson nodded and grabbed his phone off of the ground, where it had been resting for the previous two hours of their hook-up. He noticed he had several missed calls and a text message. When he checked it his face dropped to concern.

"We should get out of here," Jackson agreed.

Gabi began rolling up their blanket and placed the completely uneaten food back into her basket, "Why the change of heart?"

"I don't want to freak you out," Jackson said, "but there was another murder in town."

"What!" she exclaimed as her leisurely packing turned to a frenzied effort.

"Yeah, my mom texted me to get home ASAP." Jackson grabbed the basket once it was packed, "But don't worry, it was in town, we're fine."

"You know that's what they say in horror movies before people die," Gabi said exasperatedly as she and Jackson rushed to their cars.

As they worked their way down the trails the daytime waned to night. They heard a howl in the distance. Jackson's heart instantly started beating faster as he ushered Gabi to walk quicker to the car.

"What was that?" she fearfully questioned.

"Just an animal, we're fine." Jackson said as he increased their pace to a run.

"Then why are we running!" Gabi yelled.

They were only a few yards from their car when a large, black figure erupted into the path. It stood large, half-human half-wolf, and bore it's teeth. It howled at the two teenagers and crouched down, ready to strike. Jackson yelled in fear as he yanked Gabi and turned to run in the other direction. Behind them, two Betas stood blocking their path. Another wolf was position to the right of them, this one looking much more human and frail than the rest.

"Jesus, Gabi, I'm so sorry." Jackson said as he clutched her tight to him. He ducked to the ground with her as the Alpha lunged toward the two of them.

X-X-X-X

_Next Chapter_

_Dance in the Dark_

_Jackson and Gabi meet their fate with their Werewolf assailants. BHPD is attacked by Werewolves while investigating the murder, resulting in several officers dead. Gerard tries to get closer to Scott. Derek meets with his contact._


	9. Dance in the Dark

_Chapter Nine_

_Dance in the Dark_

A burst of bright light flooded the immediate area around Jackson and Gabi. Several roars bounced around the trees as the Argents and their fellow Hunters fired arrows and threw knives to wound the wolves attacking the teenagers. The Alpha stumbled, holding its eyes with its hands as it swiped its claws on its other hand through the open air.

Jackson lifted his head and saw the Betas behind him rushing for the Hunters who were hidden from Jackson's sight. He grabbed Gabi's hand and pulled her to run away. They stopped and began to run the opposite way as a Beta forced himself in their path. He roared and pursued after them. The Alpha and the other Beta were wrapped in a death match with the large clan of Hunters.

The Beta lashed out and grabbed Jackson, knocking him to the ground. Gabi backed up against a tree, wailing for help. The night was illuminated by frequent flares, which helped Gabi see another Alpha speeding towards her location. The Beta trapped Jackson on the ground, bared his teeth, and lunged down to bite him. The approaching Alpha grabbed the Beta and flung him back across the woods. The wolf yelped in pain as he landed.

Derek and Scott had arrived. Scott appeared beside the Alpha and Jackson pointed in the direction of the other Werewolves. Before rushing off Jackson yelled that the Alphas should wear collars since they all look the same. He turned and grabbed Gabi's hand, "We're getting out of here."

As they began to run again a small Werewolf slid into their path. He was remarkably human-like in his transformation. Had he not been baring his small fangs Jackson would have assumed he were human. He wore only a tattered pair of jeans. His entire torso was scarred by what looked like bite marks, scratches, and burns. Jackson pushed Gabi behind him. If there was a Werewolf he could take, this one would be it.

The wolf jumped toward Jackson. As he did an arrow flew through the night air and cut its resting place in his upper chest. Another came and rooted itself in his stomach. The wolf, though injured, regained his stance. He did not seem phased by the pain. A third arrow pierced his leg and another punctured his knee. The wolf, who still had not made a sound, fell to the ground. He coughed as blood exited his throat through his mouth. Gabi stepped from behind Jackson and looked down at the wolf.

"Pathetic," she spit on the wolf.

"Gabi," Jackson grabbed her hand, "let's go."

Gabi shook her head and grabbed her basket. She reached deep inside of it and pulled out a black handgun. Jackson stepped back as she pointed it at the wolf. He stared at the creature as it raised his hand to Gabi, as if asking for help to his feet. His eyes showed no emotion, no expectations. The lifelessness Derek had mentioned about Omegas could be seen in those eyes.

"Close your eyes," Gabi whispered to Jackson as she shot the wolf in the heart.

Jackson did not do as instructed. He watched as the bullet pierced the wolf's sternum. Black lines began tracing their way across his body as the wolf writhed and howled in pain…the first noise it had made that night. The poison in the bullet, so close to its heart already, killed him in a matter of seconds.

Jackson leaned down to investigate the dead Werewolf's body. He looked up to Gabi. He began to ask a question, but someone else beat him to it.

"You're a Hunter!" Allison said as she tossed her bow over her shoulder.

Gabi turned to Allison and nodded, "So much for secret identities."

Chris, Peyton, Terry, Gerard, Giovanni, Marcella, and Carlo ran to their location.

"Papa!" Gabi hugged Giovanni as he moved up behind her.

"Who is this?" Chris asked as he leaned down to examine the Werewolf, cutting his eyes up to his daughter as he did so.

"Ricky," Gerard said as he leaned down on the other side of the wolf. Gerard looked up at Gabi, "it shows true resolve to be the one to kill someone you once knew."

Gabi sighed, "We've known he was a Werewolf for a while, but we didn't have proof he had killed anyone. He tried to kill Jackson, he probably would have if it weren't for Allison."

"Why were you screaming for help?" Jackson asked.

Gabi shrugged, "I didn't want to come out unless I needed to." She looked to her father, "I haven't been Called, yet."

Gerard shook his head, "Two clans and two delinquents, but both of you saved a life today."

"He was downed," Allison said, "we should have captured him. Maybe he could have told us where the rest of the pack is."

"No," Carlo interrupted, revealing his thick Italian accent, "the Omegas never speak. Their allegiance to the pack is too strong. We've tortured information out of Betas before but never an Omega."

Allison sighed, "Where are Derek and Scott?"

"The good wolves?" Marcella laughed, "They went off after the pack retreated. We came straight to you."

"Well, we're one down." Gerard said, hardly enthusiastic.

"Seven is better than eight," Chris stated.

"There are seven left in the pack?" Adonna asked as she rushed up to the group.

"We believe," Chris said, "an informant told us there were 8, two Alphas, five Betas, and an Omega. Either way, we've met our fill for tonight, I'm going to take these kids home."

"We should be leaving too," Giovanni added, "with a pack this large we're going to have to re-think our strategy."

With that the Hunters parted ways. Jackson left with the Argents, and Gabriella left with her family, the Fuoco clan.

X-X-X-X

"Oh, thank God," Stiles exhaled as if he hadn't let go of his breath for the past five hours. Derek agilely climbed through his window and walked directly into the bathroom.

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked as he followed Derek into the bathroom.

"I'm fine," Derek said as he removed his shirt. He tossed it to the floor, its white fabric stained with blood.

"Jesus, Derek!" Stiles grabbed Derek's sides and turned him around. He inspected the wound, a three-lined gash down his right side. Usually the sight of blood drove Stiles to the point of fainting, but his concern over Derek erased his own queasiness. "Why hasn't it healed?"

"I got knicked by the female Alpha," Derek explained, "it's nothing, it will heal. Just give it an hour or two."

Stiles took one of his towels, wet it, and started to pat the cuts, "You said you were going to talk to Scott about the cure and track them, not fight them."

Derek winced as the towel touched the cuts, "When they attacked I didn't really have a choice."

"Stop wincing you big baby." Stiles ordered, "You couldn't have run away or something, I thought you could think under pressure!"

"Stiles, stop pushing it."

Stiles tossed the towel to the floor on top of Derek's shirt.

"Well now your only shirt is ruined."

"Check under your bed," Derek instructed. Stiles did so and found a large duffle bag hidden there. He pulled it out and opened it, shifted through it for a moment, and pulled out a shirt.

"You have a bag here? When did you even get more clothes?"

"I've had a bag in my car for a while, just in case."

Stiles gave Derek ta grey V-neck, "I haven't even seen your car since the fire."

"I've still got it, but I'm not gonna park it in front of your house. That wouldn't raise your dad's suspicions at all."

"I get it, smart ass." Stiles lifted Derek's shirt back up to look at the wound. It already looked as though it was a new scar as opposed to an open, bleeding cut. "I'm glad you're okay."

Derek grinned and kissed Stiles, "I'm glad you're glad I'm okay."

He walked out of the bathroom, but quickly ducked back in when Stiles' dad knocked on his door.

"Stiles, Scott is here!"

Stiles shifted quickly out of the bathroom and closed the door. He kicked the duffle bag back under his bed and ran to the door.

"Dad!" He exclaimed as he opened it. He examined his dad's face, who seemed a bit baffled by his eccentricity. Stiles hadn't directly looked at his father in the past week, but his eyes showed how tired he was.

Scott walked by Stiles into his room, "Thanks, Sheriff Stilinski."

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked his father.

"Just tired, buddy," he sighed, "I've got to go back to the station, we're going to check out an animal attack in the Preserve."

Scott's ears perked at this information.

"Be careful," Stiles said, "I love you." Stiles closed his door and turned to Scott, "Hey man, what's going on?"

"I went out with Derek tonight and we ran into the wolves, not all of them, but a lot of them. The Argents were there too, hunting with some other group of people."

"Other Hunters? Maybe the ones that attacked Derek were there."

"I don't know man," Scott sat on his bed, "Derek was trying to teach me how to smell out other wolves, identify scents, dude it was hard. But fighting those wolves was impossible. I don't know if we could have taken them without the Hunters there."

Stiles leaned against his bathroom door, "Why were you all there? Were you near their lair or crypt or whatever they stay in?"

"No, they were attacking Jackson and Gabi."

"Oh, God," Stiles sighed, "now Gabi's in on this whole thing?"

"I guess." Scott shrugged, "Stiles, I'm still so pissed at Derek, I can't work with him."

"Why are you still mad at him?" Stiles asked, "He told you about the cure."

"Yeah, he did," Scott eyed Stiles, "how did you know that?"

Stiles stopped and shrugged, "I mean, I just—"

Scott sniffed the air around him, "Wait, was Derek here tonight?"

"Yes," Stiles replied, "he was, before you went out. He was so scared to tell you about the cure that he needed a pep talk."

"Derek Hale needed a pep talk?"

"Yep," Stiles nodded, "shaking like a little girl."

Scott eyed his best friend, "Okay." He rose from Stiles' bed, "I'll see you tomorrow."

As Scott left Derek came out of the bathroom. Stiles knew he did something right when he saw the grimace on Derek's face.

"My foot entered my mouth, I know."

Derek shook his head and laid down on the bed.

"No spooning for Stiles for tonight," Stiles sighed as he cut off his light and crawled into bed beside Derek.

X-X-X-X

"Everyone in my family are hunters, just like yours." Gabi said as she and Allison walked toward the lunchroom.

"Were you the one who attacked Derek Hale?"

"Yes." Gabi admitted, "I'm sorry, but I had my orders from my family. It would have been my first kill." She said the words almost longingly, "But he was wrongly accused, I get that now.

"How did you cover up the wounds, I shot you like two times." Allison eyed Gabi, and then continued, "Sorry, I guess."

"It wasn't easy," she replied, "I used some plastic covers and make-up, your family probably has them stored somewhere. Don't want people seeing gaping wounds when you're trying to live your life."

Gabi said all of this so nonchalantly, it almost angered Allison, "So you're okay now, though? And you're done hunting Derek?"

Gabi nodded, "I've been in the know about the Hunt since I was like 10, I've been trained to follow orders. The order on Derek has been removed."

"But if the order comes back?"

"Hopefully it won't."

There was an awkward silence between the two girls as they rounded the corner at the end of the hall. After a few moments of silence Gabi stopped Allison and looked her in the eye.

"Listen," she began, "I know it sounds harsh, but you and I have very different perspectives, trust me. If things get complicated, we'll deal with it then, okay?"

Allison nodded, "Okay." The girls continued down the hallway. As they neared the lunchroom Allison spoke, "So, Fuoco, does that mean something? Argent means silver in French, so I'm guessing yours does too?

Gabi nodded, "Fire. Fuoco means fire in Italian."

"I didn't know Werewolves were weak to fire."

"They're not," Gabi said, "my family started hunting vampires back when the Hunter's Council was formed. After vampires became extinct we changed our specialty to Werewolves."

Allison's mouth hung slightly open, "Vampires? I mean I assumed but never really knew."

"Yeah, at one point vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, all kinds of things tormented humans. The Werewolves are the only ones that have survived." Gabi was speaking so enthusiastically that you would think she was talking about a won lacrosse game.

"What?"

"Yeah." Gabi shrugged as they entered the lunchroom. Allison motioned for her to sit with her, Stiles, Scott, and Jackson, but she shook her head.

"I don't want to ditch, Danny," Gabi said, "he's still a little hurt about Jackson." She walked a bit farther down to her table. She sat down next to Danny, propped her legs over his, and stole the apple off of his tray. She immediately started talking to the boys and laughing. Her ability to switch from Hunter to normal girl amazed Allison, almost the point of respecting her. But what she said about the orders, that she would follow them no matter what, only made her fear what would happen if an order was released on Derek again, or Scott. The way she killed the Omega, with no remorse or consideration. Allison refused to let herself think for one second that Gabi wasn't dangerous.

Allison sat down with the boys, all of who already had their food.

"Are you gonna eat?" Scott asked.

"No," Allison said and leaned forward. She promptly began filling them in on what she had learned from Gabi.

X-X-X-X

On Wednesday night Derek awoke at 11:00pm. He had Stiles wrapped securely in his arms. The boy was sleeping soundly and had nuzzled his body as close against Derek's body as he could. Derek grinned and kissed the back of Stiles' neck before he slowly crept out of his bed. He grabbed his jeans, a shirt, and his jacket and threw them on before he leapt from Stiles' bedroom window.

The best part of being an Alpha was the added speed, agility, and strength. Even without phasing Derek could run faster than most of the speed limits in the city allowed cars to drive. As he ran to the Preserve, the cold air whipping at his skin, he longed to be back in the bed with Stiles. Though Derek served as the furnace, Stiles was a good reactant. Not to mention the fact that he was cute.

Derek stopped in their usual spot. He must have been late, because only a moment later her voice sounded from behind him.

"Are you beginning to understand?"

Derek sighed, "Yes, I get it now. This new pack, they're trying to turn this town to fear. They want to take over, and I'm guessing they want me and Scott dead."

She laughed, "Well, that's a nice theory, but obviously one you came to on your run here from the Stilinski house."

Derek twitched slightly at the mention of his residence, "How did you find me there?"

"I will find you everywhere you go, young one," she said, "I mean you no harm. You don't need to fear me, Derek, but you should fear them."

"The pack or the Hunters?"

"Yes?"

"Which one?"

"If I need to tell you, then you have experienced nothing."

"My home was destroyed, again! I have experienced something. I've been attacked by both of them, Hunters and this new pack, in less than two weeks."

"Then it seems you need to be prepared for both. A pack of two will not suffice when facing this evil."

"So they are evil?"

"Malevolent."

"Why can't you just tell me?"

"Would you listen if I did? I told you to prepare your pack the last time we spoke, and yet you have not done as I advised."

"I understand that, I will build my pack, if I can. But I need you to cooperate with me and help me understand what I'm facing. Better yet, help me understand why it's me that has to do it."

"You're not the only one that will be important in the coming events, but you are the one with the biggest means to protect themselves and build a real fighting force."

"Who else is there?"

"Information is not knowledge, Derek," she spoke, "if you want knowledge you must seek it out on your own. My information won't help you. Just remember, these violent—"

"—delights have violent ends, like fire and powder, which as they kiss consume. I know, why do you keep saying that?" Derek protested.

"Because everyone in this town will die if you don't stop it. Beacon Hills will be eradicated, a warning to the rest of the world."

Derek inhaled deeply, "Beacon Hills, the whole town?"

"Yes," she said, "I beg you Derek, build your pack, the threat that is already upon you does not see a difference between good and evil, only man and beast, only those that will serve and those that will not."

Derek sighed deeply, "Thank you."

X-X-X-X

Derek crawled back through Stiles' window after his meeting at the Preserve. What she had said, about the town, was enough to drive him to turn anyone into a Werewolf. He just had to figure out who would be right for the transformation. And the last words she spoke, the differences between man and beast, those who will serve and those who won't, he knew that meant the Hunter's Council. So would it be the Hunter's Council or the pack that would wipe out Beacon Hills. Or would it be both?

He sighed, stood up in front of the window and shut it. He removed his jacket, shirt, and jeans and slid into bed next to Stiles.

"Where were you?" Stiles asked sleepily.

"Just looking in to some stuff," Derek whispered in his ear as he wrapped Stiles in his arms.

"You left the window open." Derek assumed Stiles was half between sleep and consciousness.

"I'm sorry." Derek grinned.

"Okay," Stiles sighed, "if you ever leave me cold in the middle of the night again I will cut off your wolf balls and give them the Argents. I need my wolfy furnace."

Derek chuckled softly, "Okay, Stiles." He kissed the back of his neck.

Stiles inhaled and exhaled deeply, his words were slurred but Derek could clearly make out his next statement: "I love you."

Derek grinned, "I love you too, Stiles."

X-X-X-X

Scott grabbed his Chemistry book from his locker and shut the door. He jumped when he saw Gerard Argent standing on the other side of it.

"Oh my God," Scott breathed heavily, "I mean, hi." He stared at the silver-haired man with cautious eyes.

"Hello, Scott."

"You've got the same effect Allison's dad had on me at first," Scott rambled, until he realized he shouldn't be making small-talk with a notorious Werewolf hater.

"Is that so?" Gerard grinned, "I've been told he favors me."

"Can I help you?"

"Yes," he said, "whether I like it or not, you helped in saving a life the other night. I wanted to thank you, and invite you to dinner at my son's home."

"Oh, well, thanks, but—"

"I'm sorry," Gerard laughed, "did I say invite?" He shook his head, "Silly me, I meant I'm telling you to be at dinner, tomorrow night. We'll call it a good luck dinner for your game on Saturday."

Scott gazed at him, eyes as wide as deer in headlights. Gerard used his broad, strong hand to forcefully pat Scott on the back. Without a word he turned and left. Allison approached Scott from behind.

"Was that my grandfather?"

Scott jumped, "I swear, I'm a Werewolf, I should feel you people coming!"

Allison stared at Scott, confused.

"Sorry," he exhaled, "you're not going to believe this!"

X-X-X-X

That night Stiles practiced his Thursday night drive-thru tradition with Sheriff Stilinski. The two had not eaten together since the night Jackson was attacked at the movie rental store. After ordering, and Stiles judging his father for his food choices coupled with his health, Stiles' father spoke.

"We got a statement from Derek Hale."

Stiles looked over to his father, trying to act as shocked as possible, "How was that?"

"Confusing," he admitted, "I assumed he had already told you what I said."

Stiles spilt a few of his precious curly fries, "What-why-whe-."

"I know he's living at the house, Stiles, I'm not an idiot."

Stiles examined his father face, which, as per usual, showed no indication of the thoughts running through his mind, "I knew he had to be staying somewhere. The only friends he has in town are you and Scott. I checked with Melissa McCall and she said she hadn't seen him. I was a little confused until I saw him creeping into your window a few nights ago."

Stiles began to stammer, "D-d-dad I-I."

"I'm not mad, Stiles," the Sheriff looked at his son as he stole a fry out of his bag, "I'm glad he's got someone he can depend on, the guy's been through a lot. But he doesn't need to stay hidden in your room, he can have the guest bedroom. Your floor can't be that comfortable."

Stiles sighed, "Oh, my floor, of course. It's not. I'm sure he'll appreciate that, but you're not worried about elections?"

"I'm harboring a homeless man now Stiles," he grinned, "not a fugitive."

Stiles nodded, "You're a lot cooler than I give you credit for."

"I know," the Sheriff stole another fry, "I'm a badass."

Stiles laughed.

"But in all seriousness, enough with the secrets."

"Okay."

"I'm serious," he said, "I know you kept a lot from me earlier this semester, I don't want that relationship with you."

"So you give me private police intel and I'll tell you about my personal life?"

"No."

"Yes, sir," Stiles replied. He looked over to his father who was enveloped in his triple cheeseburger, "I love you but you kind of disgust me."

Through a full mouth the Sheriff responded: "Remember my obsession with Double Downs?"

"Curse KFC," Stiles shook his head, but perked his ears as a call sounded on his father's CB channel.

"All units, officers down in the Preserve, all units respond, three officers reported down in the Preserve. Back-up is needed."

"They're dead!" Stiles exclaimed.

"Shit," Sheriff Stilinski let his food drop where it would, mostly in his lap, as he shifted his car into drive and sped off down the road.

X-X-X-X

_Next Chapter_

_Spotlight_

_The State Championship game has arrived, and Allison has an unexpected companion for the it. An unusual attack sends the Hunters and the Werewolves into an uproar. Stiles feels rejected when Derek refuses to let him help with the attack. The Werewolf pack attacks another member of the group._


	10. Spotlight

_Chapter Ten_

_Spotlight_

Stiles sat beside Scott in the McCall living room. The local news broadcast had superseded all programming on television. Had Melissa McCall not been sitting in the chair next to the boys they would undoubtedly be near the scene attempting their own investigation. Had she not taken both of their cell phones they would know if Derek, the Argents, or the Fuocos were aware of what had occurred.

"I've got to go to the bathroom," Stiles said.

Melissa eyed the boy, "There's a window in all of our bathrooms, no way Stiles."

"Mom, this is ridiculous, we're not going to go there." Scott protested.

"You're not going to go anywhere," Melissa said, "this is too dangerous. I'm sure I'll be called to the hospital soon, and then the two of you will be coming with me."

Stiles sighed heavily; he made sure Scott's mom heard him. He knew she only had his best interest in mind, but not knowing where Derek was, or if he was safe, was slowly driving Stiles insane. Scott kept glancing at him. Stiles knew he could hear his heartbeat accelerating, and for once Stiles' didn't care.

_Preliminary reports say five officers are dead and two are severely wounded. Attempts to get a statement by Sheriff Stilinski have been unsuccessful, but some officers are claiming that this is was an animal attack_.

Melissa shook her head, "I just don't understand."

The phone rang. She answered it and quickly sat it back down.

"That's it, we're going to the hospital," she grabbed her bag. She had already put on her scrubs just in case she was needed.

The boys grunted as they followed her out of the house.

X-X-X-X

Scott showed up dutifully at the Argent house the next day at his designated time: 6:30pm. Though the attack the previous night was tragic and required most of his attention, he was slightly thankful for the 8:00pm curfew Sheriff Stilinski set after the events at the Preserve. Once he rang the doorbell Allison answered the door and grimaced as she led him to he dining room.

Victoria served a five course meal that Scott would have really enjoyed had he not been on edge around Gerard. The tables had turned so much in just a few months. Chris, Victoria, and even Allison sat quietly while most of the conversation shifted between him and Scott.

"So," Gerard said after a sip of wine, "Did you make it out to the Preserve last night to sniff around?

"No," Scott replied, "my mom didn't want me out with what happened."

"You know we've received orders to kill any Werewolf suspected of those crimes, no matter the cost?"

Scott shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "I didn't know that, sir."

"You were a well trained dog, huh?" Gerard laughed, "Look at those manners, I would almost guess you're from the South!" Gerard leaned forward, "You don't have to impress me, Scott, I'll never like you either way."

Allison gripped Scott's hand, helping him keep his heart rate down, "I don't understand what I did to make you dislike me. I didn't ask for the bite."

"Even so," Gerard said, "you are what you are. I didn't ask to be a Hunter who's job is to kill wolves. The Code is temporarily protecting you, Scott. But I would tread very carefully if I were you. I know an Alpha's goal: to build his pack. If your friend bites a human, whether to change them or not, whether their willing or not, he will be ordered to be Hunted."

Scott's eyes were on his plate, but he lifted them to stare Gerard in the eyes, "I thought this was a good luck dinner, can we talk about lacrosse now? I've gotten your point."

Allison chuckled under her breath.

Gerard scoffed, "I hope so." He rose from his seat and excused himself from the table.

X-X-X-X

Saturday morning Stiles woke up early, much earlier than Derek had anticipated. He promptly opened his blinds to reveal a still-dark morning sky. His plan had been to wake Derek up with sunshine, but instead Stiles resorted to shaking him.

"It's championship day!" Stiles exclaimed.

Derek grunted, "Shake me again and I'll bite your hand off."

Stiles laughed as he rushed to get ready, the team was meeting for practice in a few hours and Stiles would not be able to contain his energy in the house. He decided it would be in his and everyone's best interest to go and bother Scott instead.

"Are you coming to the game tonight?" Stiles asked.

Derek sat up and rubbed his sleepy face to some sense of alertness, "I'll be tracking again today. Crowds really aren't my thing, Stiles. I'm sorry."

Though Stiles was not happy with this statement, his ecstatic attitude prevailed, "It's alright, I'll call you when we win."

He rushed out of his room and ran out to his car. Derek rose from the bed and, in his now-normal morning ritual, went to the guest bedroom to feign sleep until Sheriff Stilinski left.

X-X-X-X

Despite the Friday night dinner, Scott decided to keep Gerard's threatening words to himself so he, Stiles, and Jackson could focus on bringing home the championship. The game began later that day, and the lacrosse stands had never been as packed. Beacon Hills fans were nearly outnumbered by the fans from the other team. Though the energy was high, there were several awkward additions to the crowd of cheery fans. Chris, Victoria, Peyton, Terry, Gerard, a few distant Argent cousins, Giovanni, Marcella, Carlo, and Adonna all sat carefully watching the woods around the field and the clear path to the school behind them. Though they looked like normal people, they were littered up and down with anti-Werewolf weaponry.

Between the two families Allison and Gabriella stood side by side, cheering with the rest of the crowd in pre-game excitement. Between Allison and her father sat another awkward addition, Derek Hale. Allison took a seat beside him before the game's start countdown timer reached zero.

"C'mon," Allison tugged on his arm, "I got you here, now you have to enjoy this."

Chris eyed Allison, displaying his discomfort with having her show her friendship with the Alpha so openly around Gerard and the other Hunters.

Derek frowned at Allison, "I am enjoying this, I'm sitting here, like you pestered me to do."

Allison pouted, "Derek! C'mon, you know you want to be here!" She leaned in and whispered her next words: "Stiles is going to be so happy you came."

Derek sighed, "I have people to track, Werewolves to kill!"

Allison grabbed Derek's arm and forced to his feet. Though she accomplished her goal, she knew Derek allowed her to force him to his feet.

"If you don't enjoy things like this, a lacrosse game, you'll always be swamped, tired, and depressed."

Derek sighed and released himself from her grasp. He stood there, hands in his pocket, as she and Gabi bounded up and down yelling. Gabi surprised Allison, she was more than willing to sit next to Derek and her when Allison requested.

Once the game began the crowd erupted into cheers. The starters for both teams tried to get their sides of the field even louder than the other. Though Allison was sure they wanted to, the police lining the outskirts of the field, armed with rifles, did not move to watch the game.

As the game progressed Allison worked to fill Derek in on how to cheer at lacrosse games. She tried to get him to alternate between "Go, team, go!" and "Defense, defense!" with her and Gabi to no avail. When it came time for them to hold up their signs, Derek refused to help. And when the team scored she grabbed Derek's hand out of his pocket to make him raise it and move it with them, to which he responded, "I'm not an invalid, I can move it myself."

For a moment, she felt as though Derek wasn't enjoying the game, even though his eyes were tracking the ball as if it were the wolves he had been hunting for so long. It wasn't until Stiles scored a goal and Derek gave what could have been the cutest grin she had ever seen on any guy's face, including Scott's, that she knew dragging him to the game was the right choice. She saw Stiles erupt into celebration at his first in-game lacrosse goal and look straight to Derek. When Derek grinned even wider and winked to Stiles she couldn't help but sport a wide, cheesy smile. Despite the fact that he never exactly cheered, watching him and Stiles shoot glances back and forth entertained her to no end. Even more entertaining were the confused stares coming from Jackson and Scott about Derek's presence at the game.

X-X-X-X

Stiles opened the door to his room, where Derek was waiting on him. He threw down his duffel bag and opened his arms wide.

"Give your state champion a hug!"

Derek raised one eyebrow, but acquiesced to his request. As Stiles released Derek he drew back. "No afterparty?"

"The large police and parent presence and mandatory minor curfew kind of shot that horse in the face."

"Ah," Derek replied.

"I saw you came to my game," Stiles grinned.

"Allison made me," Derek said, but then added: "you were great."

Stiles nodded. Derek noticed a tear forming in the corner of Stiles' eye and cocked his head to the side, "Are you crying?"

"No," Stiles stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest, "I just have something in my eye, you know, like a twig, or a branch, maybe a contact."

"You don't wear contacts."

"Hence why I'm tearing up."

Derek smiled, one of the few full smiles Stiles had ever seen him show, "I love you, Stiles."

"What," Stiles face twisted into some mixture of disgust and astonishment, both of which were forced, "you think—"

"You told me in your sleep one night."

"Oh!" Stiles said, "Well that just sweeps the awkwardness away." He wrapped his arms around Derek's torso. Derek wrapped one arm around Stiles and used the other to place his hand on the back of his head, securing the boy in his arms.

"I love you too." He said, but he couldn't leave it at that, "how could you be so cavalier about this if I told you this already."

"Because I'm not a Gossip Girl in a Sweet Valley with Traveling Pants."

"Ah," Stiles grinned against Derek's shoulder. He leaned his head up and looked Derek in the eyes. Derek's wit genuinely impressed him, "it just meant a lot to me that you were there, especially with everything you have going on."

"I'd do anything for you, Stiles," Derek said.

Stiles happily exhaled, "Me, the handsome jock, and you the pretty cheerleader in the stands. It just literally—"

Derek's scowl interrupted Stiles' attempt at humor.

"Don't ruin this, Stiles."

Stiles smiled and nodded, returning his head to Derek's shoulder. He heard Derek take in a deep breath.

"Are you smelling me again?"

"You smell good after a game."

"I haven't even showered!"

"Shut up."

X-X-X-X

"How are you doing?" Melissa asked Ms. Martin as she filled in Lydia's vitals chart.

Ms. Martin gave the nurse a weak smile, "I'm trying to be well."

Melissa nodded, "Did you go to the game last night?"

Ms. Martin nodded, "Her father and I went. I recorded some of it on my phone. I thought it would be nice to come back and tell her about it. I showed her some of the videos I had."

Melissa smiled, "I'm sure she loved that."

"She always loved the lacrosse games," Ms. Martin stroked Lydia's hair, "and all of her boys were playing: Jackson, Scott and Stiles."

Melissa leaned down and hugged Ms. Martin, "You're gonna be surprised how soon she wakes up, I can feel it."

Ms. Martin smiled, "Thank you, Melissa."

Melissa nodded, "If you need anything you just ring the bell, I'll come to you, okay?"

Ms. Martin nodded as Melissa exited the room. She walked past the nurse's station and down to the vending machines. On her way down she passed the security office, which was actually a room with all of the building's cameras wired in for one officer to view them. She opened the door to check up on the security officer, who was almost always asleep.

"Wake up, Carl!" Melissa exclaimed as she saw that he was indeed passed out.

Carl jerked awake, "Oh, sorry Melissa."

She rolled her eyes and shut the door. Carl promptly fell back asleep. If he was awake he may have seen the exterior cameras go out, one by one. If he were not sleeping he may have noticed as each of the hospital's interior floor cameras faded to fuzz. If he were awake, he may have been able to warn someone before two large, black, wolf-like creatures rammed in through the lobby windows of the hospital's ground floor. However, he wasn't awake, so neither he nor the cameras saw the tragedy begin.

X-X-X-X

Derek, Stiles, and Sheriff Stilinski sat at the dining room table. It was the first time the Stilinski's had used it for dinner since Stiles could remember. Stiles sat watching Derek practice his manners in a way he had never seen before. Perhaps they taught him respect for your elders in Werewolf day school.

"Thank you for inviting me into your home," Derek said, "I'm surprised you weren't angry that Stiles let me sneak in here."

"I get the impression that you're a good kid, Derek," the Sheriff replied, "I'm just sorry so many things have happened to you lately."

Stiles grinned as he chewed a tough piece of roast beef. His father made a valiant attempt to cook dinner, but failed somewhat miserably. As Stiles watched his father and Derek interact he wondered how life would have been different if his father knew the whole time. It had only been a two days since his father revealed he knew Derek was living there. And now, gathered around a Sunday dinner, his father was talking to Derek as if he knew him for years.

Despite their good-hearted dinner effort, life intervened. The Sheriff received a phone call and immediately jumped up to grab his jacket and gun sling.

"Dad, what?" Stiles jumped up as well.

"Stay here, both of you." He ordered.

Derek winced slightly from receiving orders from someone else, and slightly surprised himself when he considered following them. Without another word, Sheriff Stilinski disappeared out of the door.

As soon as he was gone Derek picked up his cell phone. He had dialed Scott. As soon as he answered Derek barked, "Meet me at the hospital, now. We'll go in by the Emergency bay."

He hung up the phone and looked at Stiles, "You cannot leave this house, understand?"

"Derek-"

"Stiles, I don't have time for this," Derek said, "I heard the dispatcher who called your father. From what she said, it sounds like both Alphas are attacking the hospital."

"Both!" Stiles exclaimed as he followed Derek to the door, "Why?"

Derek turned to Stiles, "I cannot express to you how much time I do not have right now. And if you follow me, I will not have sex with you for a month." Derek left and slammed the door behind him.

"You can't threaten me with no sex when we haven't had sex," He mumbled, as if that detail mattered in the situation.

"Then I'll hurt you!" Derek yelled as he took off towards the hospital.

X-X-X-X

"My father and Derek just forced me to stay at the house!" Stiles yelled to Jackson through his cell phone.

"Look, dude, it's for the best." Jackson said, "You're going through the same thing I went through, feeling powerless, but at some point you've got to realize that…unless you're a trained Hunter or a Werewolf…you're not going to be on the fighting side of things."

Stiles paced around his room. He did not speak.

"Stiles," Jackson said, "just be thankful. No news stations are at the hospital, I think this is worse than what happened at the Preserve."

Stiles nodded, as if Jackson could see that through the cell phone, "Thanks for letting me vent. I don't hate you as much as I did anymore. I've got to go."

"Stiles," Jackson said, "I'm not telling you what to do, but please don't leave that house. Just wait."

"I got it," Stiles said as he hung up the phone. He left his room and walked downstairs. He made his way to the kitchen to grab the full half-gallon of milk with full intention to drink it all and passive-aggressively get back at his father and Derek. He was tired of being weak, tired of being protected. Above all, he could not fight the feeling that Derek was treating him like a child again. As irrational as he told himself he was being, the thought still lingered in his mind.

Stiles' train of thought ceased as soon as his doorbell rang. Jackson had come over to make sure he didn't leave the house. Of course, now he needed to be babysat. Stiles made his way to the door and opened it.

"Look, Jacks," he said, but instead saw a pizza delivery guy standing in front of him, "you're not Jackson."

"Nope," the guy said and pointed to his nametag, "Ben. That'll be $22.79."

Stiles crinkled his brow, "I didn't order pizza."

The delivery guy dropped the pizza and unzipped his name-tagged windbreaker, "You're right, you didn't."

Another guy appeared beside the pizza delivery guy. Stiles didn't know who they were, but slammed the door on them and locked the deadbolt.

"Listen," he yelled, "there's nothing in here to rob, just leave! The sheriff lives here!" He slowly backed away from the door. In a matter of seconds the door was kicked down by one of the men, and the other threw himself through the large living room window. When they looked at Stiles they no longer had the features of normal humans, they were Beta Werewolves.

"Oh, shit." Stiles yelled as he ran away, deeper into the house.

X-X-X-X

Perhaps it was the sirens. Maybe it was the assault, the gunshots, the roars. It could very possibly have been just fate. Regardless of the cause, in the tragic events that had occurred that night, Lydia opened her eyes.

X-X-X-X

_Chapter 11_

"_Monster"_

_Stiles fights the Werewolves at his home, while Derek and Scott intervene on the hospital attack. Lydia, now awake, has many questions. Derek returns home to speak with Stiles._


	11. Monster

_Chapter Eleven_

_Monster_

Stiles ran past the staircase and into the dining room. He glanced over his shoulder to see both Betas following his direct trail. He cut to the right and into the kitchen, slamming the door behind him. He didn't have time to look behind him, but knew they were in the kitchen when he heard the door being kicked in. He rushed to the countertop and opened a drawer near the sink. He swiftly pulled out his father's concealed handgun and pointed it at the Betas.

"A gun?" the first laughed, his red hair nearly the color the fire.

"With aconite bullets," Stiles' words were uneasy, but his resolve was clear, "I know a few Hunters."

He shot the first Werewolf in the chest. It looked down to the wound, instantly expecting death, but the bullets were normal. It was a bluff, but was the distraction Stiles needed to land two more bullets in his opponents. He aimed for their knees. He knew they would recover quickly, but if they were incapacitated for just a few seconds he would have enough time to get out of the house.

Their roars were near earsplitting, but his aim was perfect. Stiles rushed out of another door and into the living room. He ran barefoot across broken glass toward the front door. The red-haired Beta blocked his path and lunged for him. He dodged his grasp and grabbed the nearest thing within reach, a lamp. It shattered against the Werewolf and Stiles used the gun again. His adrenaline was pumping, his heartbeats were rapid, and he missed the shot. The Werewolf grabbed Stiles by the neck and threw him into the hard brick wall beside the fireplace.

His head collided with the wall first. Stiles fell to the living room floor, his ears were ringing and his vision had blurred. He reached beside him and grabbed a fire-poker from the fireplace's fire iron stand. As the red-haired Beta jumped on him Stiles swiped the poker, gashing the Beta across his face. The pain, coupled with the gunshots, was enough for him to unphase. As a normal man the wolf was nearly the same size as Stiles.

Stiles hit the Werewolf again with the poker, and continued until he was nearly on the ground. Stiles started to land his final blow, what he assumed would render the wolf unconscious, but was interrupted. The second Beta had recovered from his wound and grabbed him from behind. He sank his teeth into Stiles' neck. The other Beta immediately phased and dug his fangs into Stiles' side.

Stiles shrieked as the fangs dug into his flesh, nicking blood vessels and making him bleed out. He grabbed the Werewolf biting his neck and tried to tug him loose, but his energy was fading. The pain was too strong.

The two Werewolves released him from their bites. The one in front of him punched him across the face. The one behind him punched his lower back. It felt as though his jaw was unhinged and his kidney has ruptured. But they didn't stop. He was on his knees when they kicked him repeatedly, forcing him to the floor. He thought he would make it out of the attack, he always did. He always found some way out. But as the wolves continued to kick him, hit him, and scratch him with their claws, he realized he wouldn't make it. Stiles closed his eyes. He drew his arms over his face and tucked his knees to his chest. He didn't know how long they beat him. Eventually it felt as though he couldn't hurt worse than he already did. As he slipped into unconsciousness the face that came to his mind was that of his only hope for salvation, the face of the Werewolf 5 miles away from him at the Beacon Hills Hospital.

X-X-X-X

Melissa rubbed her eyes and yawned widely. The end of her 12 hour shift was fast approaching, and despite the caffeine she had ingested, it would be impossible to keep her eyes open a moment after her time was up. A small ringing noise snapped Melissa out of her daze, the noise of an emergency call. She jumped to her feet and ran to the room from which it was issued, Lydia's room.

She ran in expecting the worse, and was shocked to see Lydia sitting up in her mother's embrace.

"Lydia!" She exclaimed happily.

"She just woke up!" Her mother returned the enthusiasm.

Melissa walked up to Lydia and instantly began checking her vitals.

"This is a miracle," Melissa said, "it's just amazing. I guess the lacrosse woke her up after all, huh?" She smiled to Mrs. Martin.

"I," Lydia began, still disoriented from her long coma, "what happened to me?"

Melissa shook her head, "What happened is you are awake. And very healthy!" She checked her side and her arms, all of which were still healing nicely.

"Will she be okay?" Mrs. Martin asked.

"She will be just fine," Melissa hugged Lydia, "it's great to have you back, honey."

Their euphoria should have lasted much longer than fate allowed them. Lydia should have been able to soak in the marvel of her awakening, but it was cut short. Melissa turned as she heard screams in the hallway. Her eyes caught glimpse of a large, black beast slamming down the hallway. A nurse was trying to escape it, this huge creature that she had no name for, but failed. It reached out its large hand and picked her up, slamming her against the wall and ramming its claws into her back.

Lydia screamed, the sudden realization of her hospitalization hitting her. The teeth biting in to her, those were the same teeth on that creature. She couldn't remember her assailant, but those teeth that flared in her direction sent her reeling into a recollection of unpleasant memories. Its red eyes flashed a bit brighter as it saw its new prey.

Melissa slammed the door closed and slid back against Lydia's bed, as if to protect her from it. The door was no match for its strength. It barreled through the door and crouched, ready to leap. Melissa spotted a second one, nearly identical to the first, run towards the room. The first leapt forward towards Melissa, but was yanked back. The second beast wasn't there to kill her, it was there to fight the first.

The glass windows of the room rattled as the beasts roared at one another, utterly entrenched in the death of the other. Melissa ushered Lydia and her mother into the room's bathroom and shut the door, the girl did not need to see something so brutal in her first waking moments. Melissa could not fit, so she blocked the bathroom door and slid up against the back wall, praying the second beast would win the death match.

For what seemed like hours the two threw, bit, clawed, and hit one another. She watched as walls were broken in and the nurses' station was destroyed. She yelped as one of the beasts threw the other, rendering it unconscious. She didn't know which one was the good one, until it looked up at her and charged. Her savior was knocked out, and now she would face the same fate as so many others had in the hospital that night.

Then a third creature appeared, this one was smaller, leaner, and looked almost human. Its pointed ears, yellow eyes, and fangs told her it wasn't completely human, but the way it looked at her was surprising, as if she was special to it. It rounded the corner and saw the beast approaching her and promptly charged. It tacked it from behind and both landed inside the room. Melissa backed away as far as she could as the two traded blows, but the small beast did not last long. She gasped as claws were dug into its stomach and it was tossed to the side like a rag doll. It fell limp to the ground.

The first creature, obviously the most powerful of them all, turned to her again. She wanted to stay strong in the end, but all she felt were hot tears rolling down her face. It bared its teeth and roared in her direction, its snout mere feet away from her. It lunged one final time. She closed her eyes tight and accepted the end.

She did not feel a bite, but heard what sounded like a firework exploding inside of the room. She opened her eyes to see an arrow stuck to the wall and the beast clenching its eyes. Another arrow whipped in from the hallway and into the beast's side. She was nuzzled in the corner of the room, clenching her legs for protection, and did not see what was attaching the beast. But it worked. The beast reared back and jumped out of the window. She shot to her feet and watched it run towards the woods, another one following only a few feet behind it.

Melissa ran to the small one who had been killed. Its face was turned towards the wall. The body was motionless. She turned its head to face her.

"Scott?" Melissa grabbed his face, "Scott? Scott?"

The tears had returned, forcing their way out with no way to control them. She checked his pulse to find nothing. She lifted him up into her arms. His arms fell to the ground. His head rolled back. She knew what this meant…no motor control…no pulse…it didn't take a medical degree to figure it out. Scott was dead.

"No!" Melissa wailed, "No, God, please no!"

"He'll heal," a stern voice said behind her. She turned to see a man standing half-naked behind her.

"What?" She choked back her tears long enough to get one word out.

"Trust me," Derek said, "I'm Derek Hale. I know this is a lot to take in right now, but what you just saw, the fight, that was me fighting what was trying to kill you. Scott fought it too, for you. He will be okay, but I need you to be calm, collected, and to not mention this to the police."

Melissa shook her head, "But—"

Derek sighed, "They're coming, Ms. McCall, the police. If they see us here it will ruin your son's life. Let me get him to safety, he will be fine. I swear it."

She heard men yelling in the distance, "Okay." She nodded and released Scott to Derek. He picked him up, cradle carrying him, as he ran out of the room. She continued to cry after they had disappeared.

"GET US OUT OF HERE!" Mrs. Martin exclaimed, beating on the door, "ARE YOU OKAY!"

Melissa wiped the tears off of her cheeks and rose to let them out of the room as police officers entered the rubble that was once the ICU.

X-X-X-X

"You'll be okay, Scott," Derek said as he drove his Camaro toward the Stilinski house. Scott began to bring himself back into consciousness shortly after his wound healed. That attack made no logical sense, any pack with a will to survive would never attack that openly. Despite what his contact told him, Derek never believed it would be as upfront as that.

"What happened?" Scott murmured as his eyes slowly opened, "Is my mom okay?"

Derek nodded, "She is. We'll talk about that after I get you home. I just need to get Stiles, he's not answering his phone."

Scott sat up in his seat and looked down at his stomach. He remembered the pain, but there was no indication that he had been stabbed. He looked to Derek.

"Is it oxymoron to say that whenever I get mortally injured for being a Werewolf, I'm glad I'm a Werewolf for the healing?"

Derek grinned. He pulled into the Stilinski driveway and hopped out of the car. Scott came with him. Derek didn't notice the broken window or damaged front door first, it was the overwhelming scent of blood. He then looked up to the house, at the damage, and darted inside. Scott was close behind.

The blood, the broken glass, the smell of Werewolves, it all hit him instantly as he ran through the house, shouting Stiles' name, hoping his fear wasn't true. He left him there to be safe, to be away from the wolves, but it became all too clear what the attack on the hospital really was all about.

"Derek!" Scott exclaimed and Derek ran to his side. Scott pointed to a large blood stain on the carpeted living room floor.

"That's his blood," Derek said, his temper flaring, his red eyes gleaming. He wanted to control the change, but he couldn't. His anger was too great. Derek phased in front of Scott and roared in his face, forcing him to phase as well. The two immediately ran out of the door and on to follow Stiles' trail.

X-X-X-X

There were 27 body bags outside of the hospital. She counted them. She wondered who they were, what family they belonged to, why they were in the hospital. She saw the police, 12 cars, at least 30 officers, all looking frenzied. She saw the people who were evacuated, some were on their knees crying, others were searching the crowd for their loved ones. Some of them wouldn't find their loved ones until they identified the bodies.

The bodies. Innocent people are what they were, and lifeless corpses are what they had become. They didn't deserve their fate, to be ripped apart by animals. The word rang ominously in her head. Animals. Is this what her grandfather had been telling her? Is this what he meant every time he said they needed to be exterminated. Scott was one of them, Derek was one of them, they had the capacity to be good. But these wolves were different; they were vile.

Perhaps that was what it felt like for Hunters, perhaps it was what Gabi felt. Distain, horror, anger. All aimed at one group of…people. Were they people? Could people do this? Her Aunt Kate's words slid into her mind as she pondered what this event would mean. No amount of death is acceptable, but this was impossible to disregard. Peter Hale killed for revenge. It wasn't right, but neither was what his enemies did to him. These Werewolves killed for pleasure, for pure sport, and they had to be stopped.

Allison, with eyes full of tears, looked up to her father as he returned from the hospital. She clutched him as if she were a baby girl afraid of the dark. She knew what had to be done, but she didn't know what would happen to Scott and Derek in the process. She wanted so desperately to close her eyes and wish the events of that night away, but she knew she couldn't. The Hunter's Council's response would be the eradication of all Werewolves in Beacon Hills; she knew that. She also knew that she would be powerless to stop it if it overlapped onto Derek and Scott.

X-X-X-X

He couldn't stop shaking. The moist, ragged stone beneath his bare torso sent chill bumps over his body. He rolled onto his side and curled up into a fetal position to try to stay warm. He wanted to open his eyes, he wanted to know where he was, but fear had locked his eyes shut. Fear, provided mostly by the bites he had received before. He could feel the bite on his side, the open flesh of his torso stinging in the rancid air around him. The bite on his neck did the same whenever he moved. He could feel the weak flesh around his bruises, and his head still rang from the attack.

He shook even harder when he heard footsteps approaching. They were forceful, clicking on the stone floor. There was a rustling sound behind him and he knew someone had been watching him the entire time.

"Here he is," a deep voiced male spoke, "just like you wanted."

There was a pause.

"Something wrong?" the voice spoke again.

Stiles knew the voice that responded, and when he linked her voice to her identity his throat locked up.

"Who brought him in?" she spoke.

"Me and Dante," the male said proudly.

"Who's idea was it to bite him?" she responded angrily.

Stiles heard a choking sound, and a grip so hard he heard cracking. He struggled to muster up the courage to open his eyes, but when he did he wished he hadn't. He struggled to slide back, but realized only then that his hands and feet were bound. He wasn't sure if it was his attempted movement or his unintentional whimper that signaled his alertness, but the woman quickly shifted her attention to him.

She powerfully threw the black-haired Beta she had suspended in the air to the side. Her eyes flashed red as she ordered him to leave. Stiles took the opportunity to glance at his surroundings. He saw large piles of rock and slowly leaking groundwater. He was in a quarry, the abandoned quarry miles away from the Preserve, even farther from the Beacon Hills city limits. As he realized his location the faint hope that Derek would find him faded.

The woman crept up to him. She tilted her head slightly to the side.

"Stiles."

Her breath was hot on his face. Her word resounded from her mouth more like a hiss than a person speaking. The kind of tone that could only come from someone as malicious as the reputation that preceded her.

She smiled as she listened to his heartbeat, "You know me, don't you sweetie?"

Stiles swallowed the word that attempted to escape his throat.

"Say my name, baby." Her tone was coercive, almost rhythmic in a benevolent pitch.

Stiles' jaw shook uncontrollably as he muttered out the word, "Kate."

"Good boy," she smiled as her eyes trailed from his feet to his face, "come here."

He couldn't have stopped her if he wanted to. She sat behind him and lifted him up to rest against her. She carefully avoided his side wound and tilted his head so that the bite on his neck was exposed. She ran her hands up and down his arms and locked her legs beside his own. He didn't want to press against her, but she was so warm against his freezing skin. She softly kissed his neck wound before she spoke.

"Those dumb ass Betas don't know how to treat a guest, they'd rather you get hypothermia. Tsk Tsk." She shook her head and continued to rub Stiles' arms. "They don't know how to treat a guest," she repeated.

She stopped, as if she wanted Stiles to speak. His resolve helped him keep from satisfying her expectation.

"Baby," Kate whispered in his hear, "you're safe with me. I've got you here for a reason, Stiles, you're very important to me. You see, one of my Betas saw you with Derek. We've been watching the two of you for a while now. Derek doesn't know how to treat you, I saw that, I'll treat you better. I'll reward you for being good."

Stiles shivered at her words.

"Shh," she wrapped her arms around him, increasing his warmth, "those Hunters, they killed a part of my pack. The most important part. My Ricky, he's dead because of them." She began to run her fingers through his short, buzzed hair. "But now, you're here. You're going to be my new Omega."

Stiles gasped, the recollection of what an Omega is, of what she wanted him to become, scared him. He began to shiver again.

Kate ran her warm fingertips across his chest, "Don't be scared, sweetie, an Omega is so important. It takes time to train Omegas. That's how valuable they are. That's how valuable you will be."

Kate moved his head to fall forward, revealing the back of his neck.

"The first step is knowing your Alpha," she grinned, "and I'm going to help you get to know me."

Stiles felt claws dig deep into his neck. The pain ran through him like something he had never known before. He wailed as Kate let him go and he dropped to the ground. His eyesight began to fail him as flashes of old memories came into his head. He shook violently with the recollection of memories filling his mind.

It was as if he was her in this recollection, he felt what she felt, he saw what she saw. He saw Derek sitting across the table of a nice restaurant. He was smiling uncontrollably, holding her hand. He was young, lanky, and happy. He felt Derek's body pressing up against her's. He was in a bed with Derek. He heard her scream Derek's name. Then he saw the Hale House fire, the satisfaction and relief she felt was in his heart too, as the house burned. The screams of the family inside didn't scare him; they soothed him.

These thoughts disturbed him. He was Kate. He was a part of her in this stream of horrifying events. He felt the fear she had as Peter Hale threatened Allison, the drive to do anything to save her. He felt the pain as he ripped his claws across his neck. He felt the thud to the floor, and the sinking feeling of death. But something changed. He felt a flush of warmth and a feeling of power. He felt himself controlling his healing process, keeping it from kicking it.

He listened to the sounds of the fight outside. He watched as the Argents and the Werewolves entered the house to see his supposedly dead body. He watched in anger as they walked out. He saw the police investigating, felt the probes they used to test his body, and experienced the horror of being buried alive.

He felt the shortening of his breath as his oxygen ran out. He shifted out of desperation, his wound completely healed, and dug his way out of his grave into the night above. He wandered, unsure of what to do next, until he found a pack set up in the quarry. He mated with a large man to become the second Alpha of the pack. He then saw the hospital, and felt his fury as the attack commenced.

These flashes were so fast. It was so hard to separate Kate from himself within them. But when they subsided his body stopped shaking. He had damaged his wounds and could feel the blood from them leaking across his skin. Kate leaned down and whispered in Stiles' ear, "Did you know a scratch from an Alpha can turn you into a wolf?" She sighed, "Peter had no idea what he was doing when he tried to kill me. But now we're here, together, so it worked out just fine."

Stiles cringed as she licked his cheek. She unbound his hands and legs, but he was too weak to move them. He wanted to fire back at her, he wanted to be sarcastic, dry, and hateful. But the words were so hard to build up, and even harder to release. The only thing that came out of his mouth was a whimper.

Stiles opened his eyes and saw her motioning to someone, "You see, Stiles," she said, "Omegas make the pack stronger. Omegas help us feel better."

A red-haired Beta walked up behind, Kate. She turned to him and then back to Stiles. A smile crept across her face, "This is Dante, Stiles. He feels really bad about biting you, and even worse because he upset me. You're going to help him feel better, that's your job…your calling."

Kate rubbed Stiles' cheek and gave him a kiss on the forehead, "I'm going to leave you here to help Dante, but I will back when you need me. I'm here for you sweetie, and so thankful for you." She ran her hand through his hair one more time before disappearing deeper into the quarry.

Stiles looked up at Dante. The look on his face told him exactly what was coming, but he didn't have the heart to watch. He forced his eyes closed as Dante rolled him onto his stomach. Stiles howled in pain as his cuts and bruises brushed the dirty concrete. He felt Dante's claws on his back, the intensity of his anger, and the pain that came with the release of his stress.

X-X-X-X

_Chapter Twelve_

"_Dancing with Tears in my Eyes"_

_Sheriff Stilinski launches a search for Stiles. Dr. Deaton tries to help reveal the Mother inside of Lydia. The Argents join with Derek, Scott, and the Fuocos to find Stiles and eliminate the pack. Victoria aids in keeping Gerard in the dark about the Hunter activity. Melissa surprises Scott and Derek._


	12. Dancing With Tears In My Eyes

_Chapter Twelve_

_Dancing with Tears in my Eyes_

Stiles felt warmth surrounding him. He remembered Kate and Dante. As the words she had spoken to him shifted through his mind he involuntarily shivered. She was so confident that he would become her next Omega. That confidence, despite her technique, was not enough to break his will. He would make it out of the quarry and back to Derek, back to his life.

He opened his eyes. The dull gray Winter morning should have made his half-naked body frigid, but he was so warm. He shifted his eyes to see arms wrapped around him. He almost hoped they would be big, strong, like Derek's. To his distain, he realized who they belonged to.

"Good morning, sweetie," Kate whispered in his ear, "I've been waiting for you to wake up."

"Don't call me that," Stiles commanded.

Kate removed her arms from around him, intentionally digging at his bite as she did. He winced in pain and she stood to her feet.

"That hurts me, love," Kate said, putting her hands over her heart, "I care about you so much. Don't you see that? If I hadn't have come back to you Dante would have killed you."

Stiles swallowed and cut his eyes up at the unphased Alpha, "If you cared about me you wouldn't have let them do these things to me." Stiles realized his hands and feet were unbound. He tried to stand up, but what Dante did to him the previous night made it hard for him to move. He pushed himself up, mustering all of the strength his arms would give him, but the pain forced him back to the ground.

Kate snickered and knelt down in front of him, "You see, if you realize how much I care, you would know that I stopped Dante before he did any real damage. But you made him feel so much better, that's what a pack is about. We work together to make ourselves stronger."

Stiles gulped, "And as you can see I'm pretty fucking strong right now."

Kate shook her head and gripped his neck, forcing the barely scabbed wound on his neck to bleed again. As he howled from the agony she whispered, "You will be strong, when I give you the bite. But I can't do that until you realize that I am all you have. I will protect you. I will provide for you. But you have to promise me your loyalty."

Stiles couldn't hit her, he couldn't push her off of him, she wouldn't stop squeezing his neck. His anger and hatred for her was revealed as he spit in her face, "I will never be loyal to you."

Kate removed her hand from his neck and slapped him across his face. She stood and kicked him with all of her might in the stomach. He flew from the ground a few feet in the air and landed off of the concrete slab below him to the gravel beside it. He screamed as he landed.

Kate sauntered up to him and kissed his forehead, "I'm sorry. Remember, if you're good you get rewarded. And those rewards, baby, are much greater than anything you've ever known."

She walked away, disappearing into the woods a few feet away. Stiles looked around and found no one. This quarry couldn't be their home, but it was where they planned to keep him. He closed his eyes, writhing in agony and shivering from the freezing cold. As light snowflakes began to fall his strong resolve quickly faded into a longing for her warmth.

"DEREK!" he screamed as loudly as he could, "DEREK!"

X-X-X-X

Derek sat at the Stilinski dining room table, watching the police department search every nook and cranny in the house for evidence. The questioning from Sheriff Stilinski had driven him to the point of insanity, the disappointment hidden in Stiles' father's anger drove Derek to be even more enraged than he was before. Stiles was gone. The only lead Derek had was one that could not be shared with the head of the Beacon Hills Police Department.

The night before had been the most painful thing he experienced since Laura's death. The search, driving him and Scott in circles for nearly 8 hours, turned up little more than the same familiar scent he had been tracking since the night of the fire. The scent was so familiar to him, it was as if he knew exactly who it belonged to but his memory failed him each time he tried to connect it.

Scott knew there was something under his motivation to find Stiles. Scott could feel his emotion. The longing, the self-punishment, the rage. It all added up to a conclusion that was far outside of Scott's reach, yet so obvious it pained Derek that he didn't know. Regardless of their time outside, he would not sleep until he found Stiles. Sleeping without Stiles next to him would be even more impossible than believing Sheriff Stilinski's last words to him.

"Derek," he said forcing himself to stay calm, "this is not your fault. You couldn't have stopped them even if you were here."

X-X-X-X

Melissa McCall opened the door to her house. Scott would normally be in school by the time she returned home, but school had been cancelled due to the events at the hospital. She closed the door and hung her keys in their normal spot. Her heart was racing. She still didn't know if Scott was okay, but chose to trust the mysterious stranger in the hospital. That was all she could do.

"Scott?" She called weakly into the house.

Scott walked out of the kitchen and peeked nervously at his mother from the dining room, "I'm here."

She rushed to Scott, relief pouring over her. She pulled him into a tight hug, "Honey, I was so sure you—" She began to cry, tears being the only expression appropriate for her overwhelming fear.

"I'm fine, mom," he said, holding her to him, "I'm sorry that I scared you."

Melissa pulled back and lifted up Scott's shirt. When she looked up at him her eyes were a mix of relief and confusion.

"What is going on?"

X-X-X-X

Allison's pillow was soaked from her constant flow of tears. The sight at the hospital had been horrible, and the news of Stiles' kidnapping sent her into a state of despair she hadn't felt before. Her grandfather insisted that she remain in her room until he, her father, and Giovanni could make a plan for action. She managed to hear some of their conversation, noting the anger Gerard expressed and the response the Hunter's Council had for the activity. The pack had to be eliminated before any more casualties or they would call for a cleansing, whatever that meant.

She sat up as her room door opened. She wiped away some of the tears she had cried. "Hello?"

Victoria and Chris entered her room and ordered her to be quiet.

"What's going on?" She whispered, but with her congested nose and wet face it came across more like a whimper.

Victoria sat down and embraced her daughter. Chris stood authoritatively in front of her bed.

"We need your help," Chris said quietly.

Allison nodded, "With what?"

Chris sat down with them, "If we don't find this pack the Council is going to call for a cleansing. Which means we have to kill every Werewolf we come in contact with in this area…including Scott and Derek."

Allison's mouth dropped open, more tears began to fall, "No, no, not them too. Daddy, please—"

"Shh," Chris instructed, "if we're going to find these Werewolves we need Scott and Derek's help. But we can't work with them and have your grandfather know, this entire situation is driving him close to calling for a cleansing himself."

Allison swallowed the lump that had appeared in her throat, "What do you need me to do?'

"You're going to be our contact," Victoria said, "you'll pass information between Derek, Scott, and your father. This will help guide the hunt, and prevent any casualties if Derek and Scott phase in the path of one of the Fuocos or our Hunters."

Allison nodded, "Will I be hunting too?"

"Could I stop you?" Chris asked.

"No," Allison coughed, "no, you couldn't."

"Get in touch with Scott, tell him what's going on, and get ready. Tonight the Hunt begins."

X-X-X-X

Melissa sat in disbelief. Scott and Derek stood in front of her, the explanation of the events since the school year began were too unbelievable for her to comprehend. But then again, she had seen it with her own eyes. An occurrence so extraordinary that she could not rationalize it away. Scott's change couldn't be the result of adrenaline. The fight between the Werewolves couldn't be a different breed of regular wolf.

It broke her heart to know that Scott had worked so hard to protect her from Peter Hale, when it was her job to protect him. She was his mother, her sole purpose in life was for him to grow healthy, strong, and be secure in that process. She stood up after a few moments, Scott's expression showing intense fear of her reaction.

"I want to be a wolf," she said, "give me the bite thing, or whatever it's called."

Derek hadn't expected that, and by his words, neither had Scott.

"What!" Scott exclaimed, "Mom, no! You can't! This life, it—you can't!"

"I can," Melissa said, "and I will. You said Derek trained you. Well, he can train me. And it won't be as hard for me as it was for you because he'll be my Alpha, not a murderous lunatic."

Derek looked to Scott, "We need to build our pack, and your mother is strong. She could do this. But it would be dangerous."

"Obviously!" Scott protested, "And Derek: you can't bite anyone, Gerard told me that! If you do then they'll Hunt you."

"They won't know who bit me," Melissa said, remembering what they told her about the Hunters, "for all they know you found that I was bit during the hospital attack and Derek helped me stay away from them. They don't even have to know that I changed."

"MOM!" Scott exclaimed, grabbing her by the shoulders, "You can't do this! I can't let this happen to you."

"I've made up my mind," Melissa said. This was the only way she could protect Scott. If she had been a Werewolf the previous night then maybe she could have helped them fight the evil wolves, "Derek, either you do it or I find this pack and have them do it. I have a feeling it will be easier this way."

Scott shook his head, "Derek, you can't!"

Derek sighed, "I have to." He looked to Scott and then back to Melissa, "But you both need to know something before this happens."

He took the next several minutes to explain his unidentified contact and the news that she had shared with him. The impending crisis in Beacon Hills, the apocalyptic pretense of the fight to come, "You see," he said as he finished, "I have to build my pack. She's been telling me this for a long time, and if I had listened Stiles may still be here. I will change people one way or another until I have a pack big enough to threaten them. It should be people who are willing, who are strong, and who have the potential to control this change. Your mother fits that description."

Scott hugged his mother, "It's your decision, mom. But there's no going back from this."

Melissa nodded, "I'm ready."

X-X-X-X

As hours shifted into days, and days into weeks, the search for Stiles became more and more disheartening. The town had endured two weeks without an attack or any sign of the enemy pack. They town had also endured increased police presence coupled with a special division of animal control that most did not know existed. Thanksgiving break had passed and provided Scott, Derek, and Melissa more time to track this new pack. It also gave Scott, Allison, and Jackson more time to help Lydia cope with the recent happenings in the growing enigma of the northern California town.

Victoria had been key in organizing the hunts. Whenever the Fuocos were Hunting she kept them and the Argents separate, since the Argents were being helped with the aid of the phased Werewolves: Derek, Scott, and Melissa. She kept Gerard home to help her with communication and marking the maps. Their search took them far beyond their normal reaches, but not quite far enough to intersect the quarry.

Melissa's change was nothing short of extraordinary. The ease of the transition with a supportive Alpha made Scott almost wish that Derek had been his first Alpha. She enjoyed the energy, the increased mental capacity, and the boost to her senses and reflexes helped her immensely in the pack and on the job. She once felt extreme sorrow for the growing distance between herself and her son, but now their bond was even tighter than before. Indeed, the only difficult part of her transition was Derek's fight training. The trainings were brutal, and Derek was unwilling to grow attached to Melissa in the way he did with Scott.

His distance perplexed his two Betas. Despite his normal non-sunny disposition, he was especially broody. The nights they spent searching for Stiles were the worst. Scott and Melissa both were pained deeply inside from his absence and their depleting resource of hope made them weaker. Each passing night was a knife to their stomach, but Derek…he took it so much harder, so much deeper than they did. He was focused, impatient, and easily angered on those long tracking nights. Scott got the feeling that something was there that he did not understand, but could not put the pieces together.

Derek spent his days continuing his search while Scott was in school and Melissa was at work. He met with Allison to share his information and she would always have eyes full of empathic pity. The two of them grew much closer than he thought they could, but even her support could not help slow the growing hole inside of his soul. Stiles was what completed him, what made him happy. He had allowed this to happen to him, and the terms at which they left things made him think that Stiles, if he were still alive, had little hope left in him. Derek knew he wasn't supportive emotionally, he knew he wasn't open with Stiles like he should have been. Every memory of their short time together reminded him that he could have done more. It just wasn't right. Stiles had tried to save him and it brought his entire world caving in. Despite these feelings he harbored within himself, every time he slept, he slept in Stiles' bed. As he fell asleep he was filled with doubts of his own actions. Was he delusional to think he would find Stiles? Was it a lost cause? With every passing night he died, and each new day was harder to work through.

Despite the constant cloud of doubt surrounding the once investigative and almost enthusiastic group they decided to bring Lydia to Dr. Deaton. Lydia's reaction to their theory was very similar to her reaction to Allison's research into the Argent family history, that of complete and utter denial. Though she had only been awake two weeks after her month-long slumber she seemed to snap right back to where she belonged in the Beacon Hill's hierarchy. Being a hub for the paranormal was not something she had on her agenda to complete recovery.

No matter her own personal beliefs, she was willing to try anything to bring Stiles back. She remembered the words Stiles spoke to her that night at Winter Formal. It seemed so long ago. She remembered how special he made her feel. She remembered seeing that night just how genuine he was. No one with a heart like his deserved the fate that was bestowed upon him. Her appearance that night at the vet's office was not for Allison, Scott, Jackson, or Derek. It was for Stiles.

She sat in front of Dr. Deaton with her friends nervously standing around her. He examined her using only his eyes, shortly before breaking his gaze to turn and talk to everyone in the room.

"I'm sorry," he said, "there's really nothing I can do."

"Some fairy," Jackson huffed.

Allison slapped him in the stomach, "Nothing?"

He shook his head, "Yes, you could call me a fairy, but a watcher would be more appropriate of a title. The only power I have is a very long lifespan, everything else about me is human."

"Then I guess we're done here," Lydia said as she hopped off of the table.

"Not quite," Dr. Deaton said as he ushered her to sit back down.

"What?" Scott asked as he moved closer.

"Personal space," Lydia commanded as she pushed Dr. Deaton a few inches away from her, "if you can't do anything then I don't see any reason for me to be here."

"I can't do anything to bring the Mother out of you, if the Mother is actually inside of you," he pulled a large silver canister with an attached hose and breathing mask, "but if you're unconscious she's supposed to be able to roam freely using your energy to meet her needs. If I put you to sleep, maybe, just maybe, she will manifest."

Lydia cut her eyes at him and then blinked a few times, "I don't think so."

"Lydia," Allison pleaded, "we have to try. We'll all be here. The Mother could help us find Stiles."

Lydia slumped a bit, "Fine, gas me."

Dr. Deaton put the mask over her face as she laid down. She slowly drifted into a deep sleep as the people around her watched in anticipation.

X-X-X-X

Stiles fought the urge to vomit, but could not control the lurching of his insides. He coughed heavily as he heaved up a mix of blood and stomach acid. It had been two days since he had eaten, and he received no treatment for his wounds. What were once red gashes had discolored to greenish blue trials of wounds inflicted in a time he had trouble remembering.

He recalled his first few days with Kate and her pack. He had only met four Betas, two men and two women, but Kate hinted that he had more people to please than just them. The girls were very similar in appearance and vaguely reminded him of a friend, but they were not as sweet as her. The agony he had endured rendered his memory to little more than shattered flashes of a life he once knew. The blonde one liked to choke him. She would come in and toss him around, yell things in a vernacular of English he had trouble understanding, and end her venting session with her hands around his neck. She left him on the ground, never speaking to him unless to command him to yell in pain.

The other woman, she was just as mean. But, she didn't hit him. She preferred to cut him. She liked to try different ways to make him scream. One night she played a game by lighting matches and letting them burn on his back until he wailed he pain. That was when he was stronger, more willing to fight them, but that resolve had long since faded. She didn't visit as much when he stopped screaming. He guessed she didn't like him quiet. He remembered a time when he would be thankful that, but at times when he was alone he found himself wishing she would come by and cure his loneliness.

The dark haired Beta male resorted to physical abuse just like the other two. He liked to put collars on Stiles and drag him around, and he loved eating in front of him when Stiles hadn't eaten for a while. He said the look on his face was enough outside of the physical abuse, but he liked beating Stiles sometimes.

The red-haired Beta was the worst. He never hit Stiles, scratched him occasionally, but his form of torture was much different. He would come in, usually after Stiles had fallen asleep, and wake him up with the sound of unzipping his pants. He enjoyed making Stiles form positions that were unknown to him. The ones that hurt his wounds the most were the ones Dante preferred. Stiles used to howl in pain at the sensation of Dante entering him against his will, but as the days pressed on he became used to it. Kate said that he and Dante were the lovers of the pack. Stiles had initially fought the belief that what Dante did to him was through love, but he grew to blur the lines between intimacy and abuse.

Kate was the nice one. She always called him nice names, and hadn't hit him since the day he spit on her. She treated him like he mattered and would always come to him after one of the Betas hurt him. She would whisper nicely in his ear, even after he would say mean things to her, and hold him. She would rock him to sleep and he never woke up without being in her arms. At one time he hated waking up with her, but now he couldn't picture his life without it.

She came to him as soon as he began to vomit. She grimaced at the sight and kneeled down next to him.

"You're sick, aren't you baby?"

Stiles nodded and curled up close to her. Kate wiped his face and kissed his forehead, pulling him into her embrace. She dusted him off, wiping dirt and minute rocks off of his body. She kissed his wounds and rubbed his head. He loved it when she rubbed his head. It was the only part of his body that did not hurt when touched.

"You can't stay in the quarry any longer, can you honey?"

Stiles shook his head.

"I think you can come home with me now, would you like that?"

Stiles nodded.

"I miss your voice, sweetie," Kate frowned, "can I hear it again?"

Stiles opened his mouth to speak, but only a ragged sigh came out.

She frowned deeper, "Your throat must still be hurt." She scooped Stiles up into her arms, "You're not staying here any more. Go to sleep baby, you'll be home soon."

Stiles pressed his head onto her shoulder, nuzzling her as she walked slowly and calmly with him. He closed his eyes, sleeping comfortably with no worry for where she was taking him.

X-X-X-X

He smelled it. Derek's eyes shot open and he ran to Stiles' window. His contact, ever quick and sneaky, had left him another letter.

_ Tomorrow Night, The Quarry_

X-X-X-X

_Chapter Thirteen_

"_Set Fire to the Rain"_

_The group continues to hunt for the Werewolves while Gerard grows impatient of the werewolf threat in Beacon Hills. Derek makes a decision that changes the life of one of the group. Stiles meets the rest of the pack. Lydia tries to summon the Mother._


	13. Set Fire to the Rain

_Chapter Thirteen_

_Set Fire to the Rain_

The scents hit him. Six scents which hung in the night air around him thicker than Louisiana humidity. The scents belonged to Stiles and five other unnamed Werewolves he'd been tracking. Derek fought the instinct to phase because his contact would be there any second. He hung low to the ground and tracked Stiles' scent. Within seconds it led him to a concrete slab. He saw blood, and could smell rotting flesh. The boy's scent was not as stout as it was the night he came home a state champion…it was weak. He could smell Stiles' hopelessness. He could smell his frailty. It took him mere moments to realize what was happening: they were training him to be an Omega.

Derek jumped to his feet and howled into the air. His breathing became heavy, his heartbeat accelerated, his temperature rose. He began to phase, but was pulled back to from the edge by the voice of his contact.

"I'm sorry, Derek."

He didn't have the patience to stand not facing her. He turned quickly and bore his red eyes into the woman. Despite her cryptic hints and shifty habits, she looked rather normal. She wore sneakers, jeans, and a hoodie with the hood covering her head. The night coupled with the shadows of the bright moon hid her face. To his surprise she did not demand he turn around.

"If I had known what they would do to him," she said, "if I could have seen this future I would have helped you stop it."

"You must have known after they kidnapped him." He barked.

"No," she said, shaking her head, "I'm not the one with the knowledge, Derek, I know only what I am told. I was contacted last night and spared no time getting to you. I swear."

"Then who are they?" Derek asked, his tone a shade of grizzly anger, "You must know."

"I don't," she said, "She didn't tell me that."

"Who?"

"The Mother," she replied, "she's been contacting me for months. Always at night, in my sleep, and only at her whim."

Derek walked closer to his contact, "The Mother? She doesn't exist."

The contact backed away, "She does. In whatever capacity, she does. She can feel her children Derek, the Werewolves. She knows them. She has been trying to help, I can feel that her intentions are sincere."

"Then ask her!" Derek's voice was beginning to quake, "I can't let them change Stiles. I won't!"

"The quote, the Shakespeare quote, that's as close to their identity as I can get. I can't ask her questions Derek, I've never seen her when awake."

Derek dropped to his knees, tears of anger and desperation beginning to fill his eyes. He knew that something was true in her words. She had helped him to great extents in the past. She knew things that seemed impossible, but he never questioned her source. If the Mother was real, if she was contacting this woman, then she was all he had. He had no choice but to trust her.

"Help me, please."

The woman walked up to him. She stood in front of him and pulled him to her, pressing his head into her stomach. She began to breathe heavily and Derek could tell she was upset, "I will help you Derek, to the best of my ability."

Derek looked up to her. Her eyes met his and she reached up to her hood. She removed it, completely revealing her face. Her short red hair was styled up, her blue eyes burning with a similar rage as his, and Derek recognized her. His exposure to her had been limited, but finally he knew who she was.

"Victoria," he sighed, "Victoria Argent?"

Victoria nodded, "I'm sorry, Derek. I should have come to you more openly. I should have worked with you instead of making you work on your own—I was just scared. I could be killed for treason against the Hunter's Council for knowing the Mother, for helping Werewolves, for releasing this information to the Council. I'm risking my family's safety and my own, but the risks can't compare to the damage that is being done."

Derek stood up. A mix of hatred and relief confusing his mind in a way it hadn't before. The Hunters had always been an enemy of his family, even before Kate Argent slaughtered them. But now, as Allison proved to be a strong ally and Victoria had revealed herself to be the one resource he had relied on for so long, Derek began to see things for what they were.

"Why you?" Derek asked, "Why? A Hunter? Why would she choose you to speak to, and only you?"

"I wish I knew."

Derek heard the uptick of her heartbeat; she was lying.

"You don't support the Hunt, do you?"

Victoria shook her head and sighed, "Not when it involves killing innocents. The Hunter's Council is supposed to operate by a moral code. After what happened to the other children of the Mother hundreds of years ago the Code was crafted to keep us just as humane as we expected the Mystics to be. But I fear that Code is dissipating and the Werewolves may face the same fate as the others…genocide."

Derek nodded, "So what now?"

"Track them, the pack, from here," Victoria looked around her, "they may not have expected you to get this close. They may not have covered their tracks as effectively."

Derek nodded and instantly phased into his Alpha form. Victoria took the gargantuan beast's hand and gave him an uneasy smile.

"And build your pack Derek, if you want to save the boy you love, you must."

Derek howled loudly and rushed off into the woods.

X-X-X-X

Stiles didn't even have to clench his teeth anymore. He didn't have to grip the floor or tense his muscles. The agony that covered nearly every inch of his flesh had become almost mundane. Dante hit him a few times, he said Stiles was too limp. But he was too weak to please the Beta. After a severe beating Dante resorted to lying Stiles on his stomach and entering him from behind.

Dante pressed Stiles' head to the floor, as if it would take such force to keep him pinned to the ground. Stiles rocked back and forth, the friction from the rug beneath him burning his wounds and kneading his bruises. All the while he did not make a sound. His deep hate for Dante made it impossible for Stiles to fully please him.

Not surprisingly Dante was the only member of the pack that he openly showed is hatred for. And that was shown even more openly when Kate burst in to the room and kicked Dante across it.

"I said leave him alone!" Kate growled as she rushed over and back-handed him across the face. Stiles turned to enjoy the scene.

"He's gonna be—" Dante was interrupted by another slap to the face.

"Our Omega!" Kate exclaimed, "Of course he is! He pledged his loyalty to me last night, you idiot! He needs to heal before he receives the bite or it will kill him!"

Dante hissed at Kate and Stiles watched as she punched him so hard he heard bones break. Dante yelped and immediately stumbled out of the room. Kate leaned down next to Stiles and helped him up to the bed in his room.

"Here, baby, sleep." Kate kissed his forehead, "They won't come back in here, I want you healthy."

She hissed as she saw Dante had removed the bandages she placed on his wounds the night before. She spent the next fifteen minutes giving him medication and re-bandaging him. Stiles smiled to Kate as she pulled the covers over him.

"Go to sleep," she whispered, "you'll need your rest. Hopefully you'll be one of us by the end of the week. Would you like that?"

Stiles nodded as he closed his eyes. Despite his longing to say yes, to please Kate, he could not speak. He heard her rise to her feet, but the door to his room flew open before she had the chance to exit.

"He's here!" said the dark-haired female Beta that never visited him.

"Who?" Kate questioned, not monitoring her volume in Stiles' presence due to the urgency in the Beta's voice.

"Derek Hale!" she exclaimed, "Adonna spotted him in the quarry and now he's on his way here!"

"Shit!" Kate yelled, "Get everyone, the whole pack, and send them out to scatter the trail. Attack if you must, but do not kill him."

"There's more," she said, a feeling of imminent doom in her voice, "he brought two wolves with him, Scott and another. Adonna also said he brought the Argents."

"FUCK!" she yelled as she stomped out of the door, "get everyone, if they find this house then we're all dead. We're not strong enough yet." Stiles heard her voice disappear in the hallway.

Stiles nuzzled himself into the comfortable bed. He replayed Kate's words in his head. The jumble of the conversation was hard to completely decipher in his weakened mental state, but small rushes of memories came back to him. He began to remember the pack's names: Adonna was the female blonde, Marcella was the female brunette, Dante was the red-haired male, and Carlo was the black-haired male. Those were the four he saw other than Kate. He had forgotten their names in the aftermath of what they did to him. He also remembered there were more members to the pack, two if his memory served him correctly.

He thought about the name they had mentioned. The one who was close: Derek. He remembered Derek. With the name came memories of bitterness and regret. Stiles remembered. Derek left him in his house the night of the attack on the hospital, the night that Stiles was abducted. The memories were a haze but they were slowly locking together, the jigsaw puzzle of his checkered memory becoming a clear picture. Derek. The one he loved. Derek was here. His memories of how strong Derek made him feel, the memory of Derek's arms wrapped around him, the memories of Derek telling him he loved him. These memories catalyzed a sudden refocusing of his will.

Stiles' eyes shot open. He would not be able to run. He didn't even know if his legs would work. But he was comfortable; he was healing. Kate wanted him to be left alone, she wanted him heal. He quickly glanced around his room. He wanted out, but he needed Kate to defend him. He needed her to continue trusting him despite the change in his resolve. Tricking a well-trained Werewolf would be harder than anything he had ever done before. He glanced at the nightstand beside him; a cluster of muscle relaxers, pain killers, and other medications littered its surface. Stiles knew what he had to do. The drugs would help keep his heart rate down; Kate wouldn't be able to sense the lies he knew he would have to tell her. Derek would provide the distractions. He wouldn't give up coming so close. He wouldn't summon the Hunters without a strong belief in what he had found. Derek would come for him, and when he did, Stiles would be ready.

X-X-X-X

All seven were there, scattered in the woods. Their scents were not as hidden as they normally were. The circles Derek's pack had grown accustomed to tracking were more linear. He did not know if the quarry was some sort of home base or just extremely intimate to their actual one, but he knew he was close.

Explosions of light near his location proved that the Argents had already found a wolf, if not more than one. The howls proved to him that they were wounded. The yells also attested that the Argents were meeting a heavy match. Derek pushed his legs to carry him as fast as they could. Scott and Melissa were in tow behind him. It took only seconds for the trail they were following to end. They had caught the source of the scent: a Beta from the pack, running solo to hide its scent.

Derek leapt and grabbed the Beta, pinning him to the ground. He shoved Derek to the side and tried to run, but Melissa grabbed him by the throat and threw him against a tree. Derek rose to his feet and shoved his claws into his stomach.

"Speak," Derek demanded, "or you die."

The Beta grinned and spit blood in Derek's face.

Derek used his other hand to stab the Beta in the shoulder. It yelped in pain, the realization of death overtaking him.

"Speak," Derek's muzzle was close to the Beta's face, his hot breath emitting low growls.

The Beta opened its mouth, but took an aconite bullet to the chest before it had the chance to speak.

Derek howled and dropped the dead Beta. He turned and spotted the source of the bullet.

"Gabi!" Scott exclaimed in anger.

Gabi waved, "You're welcome. The Alphas are on the other side of the quarry, we need to get there before they kill the Argents. We couldn't find any other Betas."

Derek howled again. He would deal with her trigger finger after they had trapped the Alphas.

X-X-X-X

Derek threw his hand into the wall of the Argent kitchen, ramming a hole where his fist had landed.

"Is that really necessary?" Chris eyed the Alpha, "I know you're angry, but we did all we could do."

The early morning sun painted the sky outside into a beautiful canvas of pinks and purples, but despite the pretty scenery the tone of the morning was much different.

"How could they get away!" Derek exclaimed, "We had them!"

The Fuocos sat around the breakfast table, the Argents were leaned near the island in the kitchen, and Scott and Derek took their places near the doorway. The different groups in the room were at a standstill. No one knew what happened, how the Alphas escaped, how the Betas disappeared.

Gerard sighed, "Where's Giovanni and Carlo?"

Gabi held her hand over her eyes and Adonna moved to comfort her, flipping her blonde hair behind her shoulder.

"Daddy is burying Carlo's body," she choked back tears, "he died tonight, at the hands of one of the Alphas."

"What?" Victoria moved over to the girl, her nurturing instinct kicking in.

"We weren't going to bring it up right away," Marcella said, "we know there's a lot at stake here. A fallen Hunter is a difficult thing to go through, we didn't want to bring it onto your clan as well, Gerard."

Gerard gritted his teeth, "Another Hunter is dead, and we're working with Werewolves, two facts that I was conveniently left out of the loop on. The Council will hear about this."

"Dad," Chris turned to the older man, "don't. The cleansing will be a bigger mess than this, and more lives will be lost."

"No," he turned to stare at Derek and Scott, "the two of you have until I hear from them to hide. After that, I will go after you if I have to kill you myself."

Derek stepped in front of Scott, "You want to try?"

"Pop!" Allison exclaimed, standing next to Scott, "This is insane! They were trying to help us and you're going to do something that will only end in their death!"

"What about the other wolf?" Dante spoke up, his fire-red hair gleaming in the early morning sunlight that crept through the kitchen curtains; "there were three fighting with us tonight."

"A third?" Gerard glared directly at Scott.

Scott lied, "My mother. She was nearly killed in the hospital, I begged Derek to change her to save her life."

Chris put his hand over his head. The intensity in the room was enough to drive any person to the brink of their own sanity. The magnitude of his father's impending fury was right upon him, "Dad, you can't call the Council. Derek saved a woman's life and could have very well saved all of ours tonight. If you call for the Cleanse I will not support it."

"That's treason," Gerard barked, "are you ready for that, son?"

"I am," Victoria eyed the man, "if you call for the Cleanse I will not stand with you."

Gerard glanced around the room. His expression showed a sense of desperation, one that was impossible for the humans to read. Derek knew from his heartbeat: the man was cornered. He withheld his aggression as Gerard exited the room.

"I'm going back today," Derek said, "I'll be tracking until I find their base."

He left without another word.

Victoria glanced at the teenagers in the room, "All of you get ready for school, we'll deal with this for the day. But be ready, I have a feeling Derek will find something before the sun sets."

X-X-X-X

Lydia sat in her room in front of her full-length mirror. She stared at herself momentarily, remembering everything her friends had told her at school that day. Derek had found a lead on Stiles, and it was so close that they found the pack. She exhaled. Her life had become a flurry of crazy stories about beasts she could only vaguely remember. Her role in it was either monumental or non-existent. Though she enjoyed ruling the monotonous social landscape of Beacon Hills, she refused to believe her involvement in anything would be less than monumental.

She had a circle of candles lit around her, New Age music playing lowly in the background, and she was sitting with crossed legs with hands on her knees. She closed her eyes. The closest thing to waking unconsciousness she could manage was meditation, and after the failed attempt to reveal the Mother at the vet's office she was willing to try anything to make her existence more meaningful. She was infuriated that there was nothing visible to her friends or the doctor, and that she felt no different than taking a nap after Dr. Deaton's experiment.

After a few minutes of attempted mediation she gave up. Whatever this was, it would take more than an intent mind and a fairy to bring it out of her…at least on her conscious level. She blew out the candles, turned off the music, and retired to her bed.

X-X-X-X

Derek sat across the table from Victoria. Sheriff Stilinski never returned home earlier than midnight, which meant his home was the perfect place for he and Victoria to chat. Scott and Melissa were there, along with Allison. After Victoria retold the story of her contact with the Mother, she and Derek began working with the ones around them on deciphering the clues she had given them.

"All she said about their identity was this quote?" Melissa asked, "If she knew who they were then why not just say it outright? It could have prevented a lot of death."

"I don't know," Victoria replied.

Allison viewed her mother in a completely different light. Her actions, her nearly bipolar behavior a few months ago, everything was a frantic attempt to not only take care of her, but hide from the Council. Her faith in her mother had weakened before, but re-strengthened with this new information.

"These violent delights have violent ends, like fire and power, which as they kiss consume." Allison said slowly, digesting the words as if they were a multi-course meal.

"The violent delights are obviously all of this fighting," Melissa said, "right or wrong. The violent ends are all of this death. Death is never an answer. I know that after seeing so much of it at the hospital."

"And the consume part," Scott said, with his usual dubious look crossing his face, "I'm guessing that's the Beacon Hills getting destroyed thing?"

Victoria cut her eyes at him, as if his clumsy vocabulary disrespected the apocalyptic prediction of the end of the quaint town, "Yes, I guess it is."

Allison thought deeply for a moment, shifting through the words again. A look of horror struck her face. Her accelerated heart beat tuned Derek in to her realization.

"What!" Derek demanded.

"Fuoco," Allison spoke carefully, "Fuoco means fire in Italian, Gabi told me that. The fighting and death, and the end of Beacon Hills, all of that is tied to them."

"They are quick to kill the Werewolves," Scott commented in disgust, "Gabi killed one before he had a chance to tell us anything the other night. I don't even remember Derek asking for them to come on the Hunt."

Victoria perked her ears, "I didn't ask them, nor did Gerard, I don't believe."

Derek looked around the table, "Then how did they know about the attack?"

"And where was Giovanni during the fight?" Allison asked.

"And where was he today?" Victoria continued.

Derek leaned in, "Didn't your dad say he shot one of the wolves with a monkshood bullet? But it got away?"

The unanswered questions all pointed to one conclusion, "They're the Werewolves." Scott whispered.

Derek looked around the room, glancing at everyone's dreadful expressions, "Can a Werewolf be a part of the Hunter's Council without them knowing?" He asked Victoria.

He heard her heartbeat rise, he knew the answer to the question before she spoke, "Yes. It is very possible. That would explain Giovanni's absence today and during the hunt, and how they found out about the attack, how Ricky ended up a wolf, how Carlo died and their disinclination to tell us about it…"

"Oh my God," Allison gasped.

"Jackson!" Scott exclaimed, reading Allison's face, "The night the wolves attacked, Gabi took him to the woods to kill him, or change him." He pulled out his phone to call Jackson, but saw he had a text message waiting from him. He placed it in the center of the group for everyone to read.

_Just got a call from Gabi!_Jackson's text read, _I'm meeting her at the Preserve for some "fun." What do you think that means?_

"When was that sent?" Allison jumped from her seat.

Scott picked up his phone and read the delivery stats.

"Two hours ago."

X-X-X-X

_Chapter Fourteen_

"_Teeth"_

_Derek finds an unexpected addition to his pack. Stiles' plan falls apart. The group is betrayed by someone close to them. Victoria is pushed to her limit._


	14. Teeth

Author's Note: It has been a while since I updated, work has been crazy! Due to the new season of Teen Wolf airing I have changed Victoria's position in the Hunter's hierarchy to leader, which you'll notice in this chapter. Sorry it's been so long and please read and review. This chapter may be a little rusty, and it's pretty long, but hopefully it was worth the wait :)

Also, as requested, a warning that there are some graphic segments of this chapter. Nothing too bad, but this is one of the most violent chapters thus far.

_Chapter Fourteen_

_Teeth_

"Are you absolutely positive?" Gerard asked, his elbows leading on the kitchen island giving him support for his shaky legs. The news Allison and Victoria had shared with him regarding the Fuoco's knocked him off balance, literally.

The entirety of the Argent Clan in Beacon Hills was gathered in the house standing in close form around the island. Chris, Terry, Peyton, and Allison stood quietly observing while Victoria debriefed Gerard.

"Yes, I saw Gabi phase and rush off into the Preserve on our way home," Victoria lied.

"What were you doing driving out there this late?" Gerard questioned, "Meeting with wolves perhaps?"

"No," Allison interrupted.

Victoria placed her hand on her daughter's arm and interjected, "We were patrolling."

"Patrolling?" Gerard glared at Victoria and rose to stand up straight.

"Goddamn it, Gerard," Victoria snapped, "why can't you trust my judgment? The Council decided to make me this clan's leader, to ban me from the Hunt so I can guide you all, so listen to me! I'm positive there's something brewing in the Preserve, I need Chris, Terry, and Peyton to get out there now."

"What about Derek?" Chris asked, "Will he be there?"

Victoria knew Gerard would be enraged, but she had no choice but to speak truthfully, "He, along with his pack, are already on the way."

Chris looked to Gerard, who was clenching his jaw, his eyes burning from what he saw as blatant betrayal.

"You think we should go, so we'll go." Chris said, "Terry, Peyton, Allison, let's go."

"No," Gerard spoke, "Allison stays here. If the Fuoco's aren't going to feign their aid in this fight then it will be too dangerous for a Hunter as inexperienced as Allison."

"What?" Allison questioned, "I'm not staying here!"

"Yes you are," Chris said, "He has a point."

Allison grimaced as her father, uncle, and cousin loaded up their Hunting weapons and left the house. Chris kissed Victoria and Allison on his way out. He completely avoided Gerard's gaze.

Once they had left for the Hunt Allison huffed loudly and began to storm out of the room.

"Not so fast," Gerard spoke, "there's a window in your room, you'll just try to escape."

X-X-X-X

Jackson tucked his hands deep into his pockets as he carefully treaded through the woods towards his and Gabi's meeting point. She had to be insane to want to meet in the Preserve after what happened the last time they had a date in the woods, but his urges overtook his common sense all too easily when she was concerned. She had played a careful game of keeping his interest piqued, nearly to the point that he could swear she had someone coaching her.

The lacrosse champ's heart skipped a beat when he heard twigs cracking a few feet away from him, but he instantly calmed down when the bright moon illuminated Gabi's figure a few yards away. Her back was turned to him and from the faint sounds coming from her direction he deduced that she was not alone.

He warily crept a few feet closer and leaned on a nearby tree, perking his ear in her direction to better attune to the conversation.

"I don't know how I feel about this," said a deep voice, obviously belonging to a guy. Jackson squinted his eyes to stretch his vision, but could not tell who this other person was.

"He won't have a choice, now man up!" Gabi demanded, "And don't worry, everyone who has any sense knows that Jackson has wanted this for a while. We're going to give it to him."

"What if he's pissed?"

"Then he'll just deal with it," Gabi placed her hands on her hips, "and if he can't we'll make him." She giggled as she uttered her last word.

Jackson pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked it for any messages. He had texted Scott nearly two hours before his arrival at the Preserve, but still had no response. When he tucked his phone back in his pocket and looked up he found Gabi standing on the other side of the tree.

"Jesus!" Jackson exclaimed, "You scared the hell out of me!"

Gabi grinned and trailed her fingers along the side of the tree, "I thought you'd be excited to see me."

"I am," Jackson mumbled, "but who else is here?"

"Oh," Gabi rolled her eyes, "you heard that?" She raised her hand to signal the other guy to come to them. As the guy approached Jackson recognized him, it was Danny.

Jackson backed away, "I don't get it. You're talking about forcing me to like something and now Danny's here. No offense, but I don't swing that way."

Gabi grabbed Jackson's arm with surprising force and pulled him closer to her and Danny, "No, you perv, you're here for something much more important."

Jackson glared at her and then to Danny, "Explain."

Gabi looked to Danny, but when it was obvious he wouldn't speak a word she continued, "I like you Jackson, maybe not enough for boyfriend material, yet, but I like you. The only problem is that Danny's my best friend here, and it's obvious you two have some unresolved issues. I want the two of you to work them out."

Jackson stared blankly at Gabi, "Work them out?"

"Yes," Gabi said coolly, "either you work them out and you and Danny pick up your bromance where it left off, or you don't get to take my clothes off."

Danny rolled his eyes, "That's one way to put it."

Jackson shifted his gaze to his best friend, "We have issues?"

"Yeah," Danny tucked his hands in his pockets, "I mean ever since Winter Formal you and Scott and Stiles and Allison have had this weird clique and it's like I never talk to you anymore. I know it's stupid and probably a little gay to come at it like this, but I miss you man. I thought we were tight."

Jackson stuttered through his next sentence, partially out of distaste for the situation, "We are tight. But, I didn't know I couldn't hang out with other people."

Danny shrugged, "I mean you can, but I literally never talk to you outside of the lacrosse field. Never."

Jackson swallowed deeply, as if choking down his own pride, "I apologize, I've just been busy, but I will make sure that I pay more attention to you."

Danny shook his head, "Now it sounds like we're dating. That's sketch."

Jackson laughed, "Yeah, this whole situation is."

Gabi took both boys by their arms, "So are you two okay?"

"We always have been," Jackson said, "I've just been distracted."

Danny nodded in agreement. As he did so Gabi clapped her hands and began walking the boys through the woods. Jackson couldn't tell if they were going deeper into the thicket of trees or back towards their vehicles.

"Well, now that's over, we can actually move on to the next phase of our lives." She smiled.

"The next phase?" Danny asked curiously.

"Yeah," Gabi's grip on the boys' arms tightened, "meet my Dad, Giovanni."

The boys looked in front of them to see her father, a large alpha werewolf with eyes the color of blood and teeth shining in the moonlight. Danny, who had no prior experience with wolves, instantly began screaming and trying to pull away.

Jackson's reaction was much different. When he saw the wolf he exhaled, not out of relief, but out of realization. The lesson his peers had learned back in the safety of the Stilinski house just hit him. And if Gabi's strong grip was any indication, he had no means of escape.

X-X-X-X

"Let her go," Victoria demanded, "she won't leave, will you Allison?"

"No, mom," Allison said, turning to leave again.

"Oh, she's leaving," Gerard walked to the front door of the house and opened it, "just not to go throw her life away in a fight with her werewolf boyfriend."

Three men, dressed as if they were members of the secret service, walked through the open door. Two of the men were muscular, obviously some type of body guards. The other was much more slender and held himself as if he had the power in the room.

"Terrance," Victoria's eyes were examining the situation quickly, bounding to read the expression of each man in the room. Allison caught her mother's strategic glare and instantly began backing away.

"Victoria," Terrance smiled. His teeth were perfectly white, his skin a deep shade of brown, and his voice oddly charming. "It's good to see you again. Gerard here was kind enough to invite me over. He says we have quite the situation in Beacon Hills."

Gerard caught Allison beginning to back away and spoke to stop her, "Don't move Allison."

Victoria tensed up, "He Called you?"

Terrance nodded, "He did. I usually don't have to bring backup like I did today." He pointed to his bodyguards and shrugged, "The Call in most families is a blessing, especially this early, but Gerard insisted I may have a problem here. The Council wouldn't want to hear that, especially since you have let this town get so out of control." Terrance broke his gaze to look at Allison, who had moved back from the foyer into the doorway to the kitchen. "I won't have a problem, will I?"

Victoria looked back to Allison, a tinge of dread in her eyes, "I'm sorry he has so little trust in me." Victoria walked over to Allison and pulled her over to the men. "Allison, this is Terrance Argent, a distant cousin."

"Hi," Allison said uneasily.

"Go get our guests some coffee," Victoria ushered Allison toward the kitchen, but whispered quickly in her ear as she stepped away, "Get a flashbang grenade."

Allison began to walk towards the kitchen, her muscles tensing up at the thought of an escape. Terrance mentioned the Call, something her parents seemed terrified she would be put through. Was this it? Was the Call some men walking in and abducting her from her life, likely to turn her into a younger, more feminine version of her grandfather? She hadn't made five steps toward the kitchen before she was stopped by Terrance's words, "Oh no need, we're not staying. She's coming with us."

Allison froze in her spot. She quickly gazed at her mother, then to Gerard, and then to the men who had entered their house. A tear began to well up in Victoria's eye as she reached out for Allison's hand. She gripped it strongly, beginning to guide her to Terrance's side.

Victoria pulled Allison in for a hug and whispered in her hear once more, "Run."

Before Allison had time to react Victoria swung around, her fist knocking Terrance to the floor. The room quickly burst in to a state of lunacy.

X-X-X-X

"WHAT THE HELL!" Danny tugged against Gabi's grip, "LET ME GO! HELP! HELP!"

"No one's going to come for you Danny," Gabi shrugged, "you're out past curfew in the middle of the woods where a lot of people have died. No one is stupid enough to come out here."

"What are you!" Danny exclaimed, already exhausted from trying to free himself.

"I'm a werewolf, and so is my daddy," she said plainly, "Jackson here knows all about werewolves, he's wanted to be one for a while now, right?'

Danny's expression turned from panic to shock as Jackson nodded and hung his head. He took in a sharp breath and stared into Gabi's yellow eyes.

"Not anymore," he clenched his jaw, "if you change me I will not follow you. Derek Hale will be my Alpha, and I won't stop until every one of you are dead."

Gabi sighed and looked to Danny, "You hear that? I'm trying to give him power—a strong family—and he threatens me." Her tone was sadistically saddened. She flipped her hair and released Jackson's arm.

Jackson eyed the Beta and backed away, "What are you doing?"

"You obviously don't want to be a member of my family, so I'm not going to have daddy change you." She sighed, "You're free to go."

Jackson looked at Danny and took one step back, "What about Danny?"

"He's mine." Gabi cocked her head towards Danny and Giovanni leapt forward, pinning the boy to the ground and digging his fangs in his side.

Danny screamed in pain, the noise itself nearly knocking Jackson off of his feet. He ran forward in a meek attempt to help his friend, but Gabi stepped between the two boys. Jackson watched as the Alpha backed away while Danny clutched the bleeding wound in his side.

"There's nothing you can do now Jackson," Gabi grinned, "run."

Jackson's eyes locked with Danny's. Danny knew it was too late for him. Though he was still in a haze of confusion about what happened to him, the pain was too severe for him to be able to make it out of the woods. Danny nodded, signaling Jackson to retreat.

"You won't get away with this," Jackson grimaced at the two wolves, "they'll come for you. And they'll save him."

"I'm counting on it," Gabi stepped up closer to him, "and if Danny being changed isn't enough to spark a war with the Argents, then this will be."

Jackson had no time to move. Gabi swiped her claws across his neck so quickly he almost felt no pain. His only initial inclination that she slit his throat was the warm sensation of blood pouring down his torso. He looked down and saw more blood than he thought he had in his body. He began to back away, but his legs failed him. He clutched his throat, holding the wound as tightly as he could before he fell to the ground.

Gabi watched this with extreme satisfaction. Between Jackson's shock and Danny's horror she was in a near euphoric state. The pleasure she was experiencing seemed as though it would never end. That was all until she received a bullet wound to her chest.

X-X-X-X

His memory of Derek and his past life was strong. So strong that he found himself having to take much more medication than usual to ease his pulsing heart. But no matter how much he longed to be free there was one thing holding him to the Fuoco house. Kate.

She slept with him in her arms the night before, despite the frenzied hunt and fight that was apparent when the pack re-entered the house. She protected him from an angered pack that was sure to want to take out their frustrations on him. He heard whispers of a death in the pack, but he had no clue who had died. She merely told him to sleep in peace, her hot breath breezing across his still aching skin.

He woke the next morning with her by his side. She spent the entire day with him. They talked, she brought him food, she checked up on his wounds; it was a twisted relationship that Stiles could not describe. No matter what his conscious mind told him, something kept making him long for Kate's company. After nearly 24 hours together, locked in his room, he could feel himself becoming stronger, as if he had already received the bite.

"That's our bond, baby," Kate told him when he asked why he felt so much better, "the bite is as much of a mental bond as a physical one." She sat at the head of the bed and began to rub Stile's hair, which had grown nearly shaggy in the weeks he spent with the pack. It was close to midnight and his energy was waning, their conversation was taking place while he was on the verge of sleep.

"So I'm already becoming a wolf?" Stiles asked. His ability to speak in clear, concrete sentences seemed to only fully function around her.

"Not yet," Kate leaned down and kissed his forehead.

His mind fought so hard with his body to reject the kiss, but there was something about her. She had protected him from Dante, she always comforted him after what the pack put him through; she would be the only person he would miss. As a child longs for his mother even after they fight, he knew he would miss her even after he escaped.

The thought of escaping sent a jolt of electricity throughout his body. It was as if a feeling of excitement, dread, and sorrow spread through him simultaneously. He wanted to have Derek back, that seemingly distant memory of comfort and love, but he was frightened of the repercussions and the danger, and was nearly brought to tears of the thought of not seeing Kate every day.

Kate picked up on his elevated heart rate, "Are you okay, sweetie?"

Stiles burrowed closer to her, "Don't leave me tonight," he said, "can you sleep with me again?"

Kate smiled, "Were you nervous to ask me that? Of course I'll be here."

Stiles began to slip off into sleep, comfortable in his protector's arms, before he was awoken by a sudden jerk. Kate had snapped to her feet, nearly throwing him across the bed.

"Did you feel that?" Adonna asked as she rushed into the room.

"Gabi," Kate exhaled, "she's been hurt."

Marcella and Dante entered the room. Dante spoke, "They must have caught on to us, there's no other reason they would be at the Preserve when we were supposed to increase our numbers."

"We go there, now." Kate began to rush past the Betas.

"Stop," Marcella interjected, "if they got past Giovanni to get to her then that means the Argents and Derek's pack are both there. We can't face that many of them on our own, especially if Giovanni and Gabi are down."

"Did you feel Giovanni howl in pain? I didn't think so." Kate snarled, she turned to Dante, "We're going. You're the youngest here, which means you're the most likely to die. You stay here and watch over Stiles. Give him whatever he needs. If he tells me you so much as breathed on him I swear I will rip your teeth out of your mouth and stab them through your eyes."

Dante backed away and nodded, shooting a venomous stare in Stiles' direction.

Kate rushed out without a word to Stiles, which made him more upset than he thought he would have been. Dante left the room shortly after his pack-mates disappeared. The comfort of Kate's presence lingered in the room, but Stiles suddenly awoke from his half-unconscious state. He realized that they were gone; there was only one wolf in the house. If he would ever have a chance to escape he had to do it in that moment.

X-X-X-X

The Fuoco pack's numbers skyrocketed within a few minutes of the gunshot. What had originally been a two wolf duo swelled to a five wolf pack. Gabi lay convulsing on the ground, with Kate, Giovanni, Adonna, and Marcella fighting fiercely to protect her.

Giovanni kept the Argents and Derek busy, while Adonna and Marcella squared off against Derek's pack. Kate wasted no time in picking up Gabi and retreating deeper into the woods. To keep her alive after the fatal shot she would need to administer anti-monkshood quickly, nearly in the middle of the fight.

Adonna and Marcella proved a difficult match for Scott and Melissa. They engaged in a near even fight the entire time. Tragedy struck very soon in the face-off when Giovanni connected a fatal blow with Peyton, sending a mangled and limp body flying off into the night.

Giovanni roared, the sensation of taking a life giving him a new strength as he barreled into Derek. Chris and Terry were of little aid, their aim unstable among the confusion of two similar Alphas fighting. If the death of a Hunter was any indication, they were loosing this fight.

X-X-X-X

Dante pushed open the door to Stiles' room. He stared at his sleeping form for a while, until Stiles opened his eyes and looked directly at him.

"You're here." Stiles said.

Dante didn't speak. He walked into the room and closed the door behind him. He stood still for a moment, observing Stiles. Stiles' heartbeat had risen, he was obviously sweating; the boy was terrified of him.

Stiles moved slowly to stand on his feet. Dante knew Stiles was no match for him, even if he was in full health, so he allowed the boy to move. He was intrigued that Stiles was speaking to him, their most recent encounters were usually silent. Once Stiles had placed himself securely on his feet he spoke again.

"I know what you want."

Dante grinned and stepped closer, nothing on his form had phased to wolf except his yellow eyes and teeth. Stiles limped closer to Dante, a move that confused the Beta. Stiles found himself much more physically apt than before, arguably a result of Kate's close presence.

"I'll give you what you want, if you do what I say."

Dante growled and closed the gap between them. Stiles flinched, but the Beta did not touch him.

"What do you want?" Dante asked.

Stiles looked the Beta in the eyes; mustering up all of the courage he could to face him. "I want what you want, but I want control this time."

"You're an Omega," Dante hissed, "you don't control your pack."

Stiles lifted his hand and touched Dante's stomach, trailing his fingers across his shirt to feel his ripped torso.

"I'm more than an Omega to you, aren't I?"

Dante examined the boy's face, Stiles was staring at him with an odd sense of need.

"Yes," Dante admitted placing his hand over Stiles', "what do you want me to do?"

"Show me your teeth," Stiles said. Dante did as he asked.

Stiles grinned, "Now kiss me." Dante obliged, closing the distance between their lips. Dante's lips were soft, his five-o'clock shadow scratching Stiles' chin. The sensation reminded him of Derek, his conscious mind worked constantly to remind him that it wasn't Derek in the room with him.

Dante pushed Stiles closer to the bed. Stiles flinched and pulled his lips away from Dante's. He placed his hand on Dante's cheek and whispered softly to him, "Be gentle, and I'll do anything you want."

"Take off your shirt," Dante commanded. Stiles removed it, tossing it to the floor beside him. Dante ran his hands from Stiles' shoulders down to his waist, examining the boy's healing wounds. His touch was surprisingly soft, if Stiles had not had such a strong aversion to their encounters he could mistake the Beta's touch for affection. A memory flashed through his mind, one of Derek examining the bruises on his back after the Hale house fire.

Stiles kissed Dante once more, trailing his lips from Dante's up to his ear. "Lay on the bed."

Dante backed away, lying on the bed as Stiles climbed on top of him. He straddled Dante's hips and pulled his shirt off. Dante's build was very similar to Derek's. Stiles had never studied the Beta closely before, but as he did his urge to be with Derek increased.

"Kate said you can't touch me," Stiles said and began to undo Dante's belt, "but do what I want and I'll never tell."

Dante grinned, beginning to grind against Stiles, "She's jealous of us."

Stiles licked his lips and leaned down to him. He opened the chest drawer beside him and pulled out two pairs of handcuffs, the same handcuffs Adonna used to tie him down before she would beat him.

"She is," Stiles said, running the cold metal of the handcuffs along Dante's torso, "I wish you were my Alpha. You'd take better care of me."

Dante bucked against Stiles harder, "What are those for?"

"I want to handcuff you to the bed," Stiles said, as sensually as possible, "you can break through these easily, but just pretend for me."

Dante snickered, but obliged. His hands were handcuffed above him and Stiles was leaning down, digging his weak fingers into his sides as the two grinded in the most passionate way he had experienced since Stiles arrived.

"Kate's jealous, but she's also scared," Stiles said, "she's scared you'll kill me."

Dante stared the boy in the eyes, "I wouldn't do that."

Stiles smiled and reached over to the bedside stand, "I want to use something she gave me, but for me and you."

Dante grinned and eyed the boy, "More toys?"

Stiles nodded and leaned down to kiss his neck. He blocked Dante's view of the drawer, if he hadn't Dante would have seen the Taser coming before Stiles turned it up to it's full blast shocked him with it.

Dante howled in pain, his body temporarily unresponsive to the commands his brain was sending.

"She told me to use this on you if you tried to hurt me," Stiles said, shocking the Beta again, "what she didn't know is that this is going to help me escape, and when I'm gone Derek will be back to kill you all." Stiles tased the Beta over and over again, rendering him helpless. The pain forced Dante's eyes to return to their natural color and his teeth to recede. He shouted, but could not make words due to the electric currents altering his body.

Stiles kept the Taser going as he reached over and pulled a knife out of his bedside stand.

"She gave me this with my meal last night," he stabbed the knife into Dante's chest, "and I'm going to use it to kill you."

Stiles stabbed Dante again, and again, until his body went limp. He hoped the knife would kill the Beta, but knew that wasn't possible. The Beta would heal quickly; the difficult part was knowing how long he had to escape. Stiles drifted out of his manic state and examined himself and Dante. He saw the blood covering both of them and vomited, the sight of blood nearly incapacitated him.

He hopped off of the Beta and ran out of the room. The adrenaline pumping through his body almost made him numb to his pain. He rushed through the house, trying to find his way out of the apparent maze they had set up in the home. He eventually found his way to the garage, and to his luck a large black Tahoe SUV was parked inside.

"Thank you, Karma," he breathed as he ran to the driver's side door. He looked through the window to see the keys were not in the ignition. He hurriedly examined the room to find a large gun case behind him and a duffle bag sitting open on it's counter. He grabbed the bag and began searching through to find keys.

He panicked as he heard Dante roar back to life inside the house. His heartbeat increased and he knew Dante would find him within seconds. The interior door to the garage flew off of its hinges and slammed against the wall beside Stiles. He turned to see Dante running at an inhuman speed towards him.

Stiles pulled a gun out of the bag and pointed it at Dante. The Beta leapt from his spot towards him. His hands were shaky, his aim was inferior, but Stiles closed his eyes and fired the gun. Stiles kept his eyes closed as Dante collided with him, sending him falling to the ground. His escape attempt was over, and Dante had more than enough reasons to kill him now.

X-X-X-X

Allison ran through the kitchen as she heard yells coming from the foyer. She exited into the dining room and was nearly out of the back door before she turned, seeing through the hallway the sight of her mother struggling against the bodyguards. They had captured her. Gerard was lying on the ground, but Terrance was rising to his feet. Allison clenched her teeth as she ran out of the back door.

Terrance stood, his full height more than a foot taller than Victoria, and back-handed her across the face.

"Are you insane!" He yelled, his voice thundering through the house, "You do not defy the Council! This is treason!"

Gerard stood to his feet as well and glared at Victoria, "You see what I've dealt with. Unfortunately she and Chris have fallen victim to Werewolf Indoctrination. They are protecting them, working with them, and somehow the Fuoco Clan has been changed."

"All of them?" Terrance looked to Gerard in shock.

"Yes, I don't know how, but I would assume Derek Hale has something to do with it."

"That's insanity talking," Victoria interjected, a purple bruise already forming on her cheek, "Derek has been helping us since the murders here started. We were wrong to hunt him."

"I see," Terrance shook his head, "the Indoctrination is deep within her. We'll have to bring her, too. Chris and the rest of the Argents will be tried for treason and this area will be cleansed."

A flashbang grenade ignited and blinded everyone in the room momentarily. Victoria freed herself from the bodyguard's grasp but was yanked out of the door.

"Mom, stay behind me." Allison commanded.

She pulled her bow, loaded with an arrow, and aimed it for Terrance. Once his sight returned he laughed.

"You're a cunning one, aren't you?" He smiled, "Once your training is complete you'll be an excellent Hunter."

"You're not taking me, or my mother." Allison said, her usual soft tone replaced by one of scorn.

"You're not a murderer, Allison," Terrance said, "you won't kill us. And there's nothing short of death that will keep us away from you."

He began to step forward, and Allison let her arrow fly. Gerard, the bodyguards, and Victoria gasped as all eyes were placed on him.

"You're right," Allison nodded, "but this won't kill you." She quickly reloaded and shot the other two bodyguards before they could turn their attention to her. Her arrows were placed all in the same location: their knees.

The three men howled in pain, the bodyguards attempted to rise but could not support themselves. Gerard stared at his granddaughter in horror.

"What have you done!" He screamed, "There's no going back from this! The Council will not stop until—"

Allison loaded her bow and placed the tip of the arrow mere inches from Gerard's face, "The Council will hear of this. I will take this to them myself. They will not stand for Codebreakers like you. The only people being tried for treason will be you and the Fuocos, if I don't kill them first.

"You've done enough to my family, my friends, and me to make me hate you for a lifetime. You're not welcome here. I'm going to get my father, and when we come back you and these thugs will be gone. If not, you'll be locked in Kate's old interrogation warehouse, and if no one could hear a howling werewolf there do you think anyone will hear you?"

Gerard backed away and stared at her. Allison backed away as well, running to her car with her mother. She did not look back as she sped away.

X-X-X-X

The Argents and Derek's pack were loosing. Exhaustion and injury began to get the best of them. What had began as a fight to save Jackson and Danny turned in to a fight for their own lives.

It wasn't until Kate emitted a loud, almost mournful howl, that Giovanni's pack retreated into the night. Scott, Melissa, Derek, Chris, and Terry breathed a deep sigh of relief. That was the first time they had ever been that close to their own death. Each one of them was either hunched over onto their knees or lying on the ground, attempting to recuperate before they returned.

"S-s-s-c-ott."

Scott jerked up and examined the area around him. What greeted his eyes was Jackson, drenched in his own blood, still holding on to his neck, convulsing. From his heartbeat Scott knew he was near death.

"DEREK!" Scott exclaimed as he leapt to Jackson's side.

Derek, along with everyone else, circled around Jackson. Chris hung his head, the thought of loosing two lives dipping his usual stern posture into a mournful hump.

"You have to bite him!" Scott yelled, "He's dying!"

Derek shook his head, "He'll die anyway. There's no way he'll survive the bite loosing this much blood."

"He'll die before we get him to the hospital," Melissa added, tears swelling in her eyes.

Scott punched the ground and roared, "Then he's dead either way! You have to try!"

Derek turned his eyes, red with rage, towards Chris. The Argent leader was torn. Jackson would be a death that was his responsibility, just like Peyton's. However, a Hunter encouraging turning a human to a wolf was forbidden. He shook his head and exhaled.

"Do what you have to," he turned away, "We're taking Peyton back to the house. I don't need to know what happens after I leave."

Chris and Terry picked up Peyton's limp body and disappeared into the Preserve. Chris, who had held a strong façade despite Peyton's death, grimaced when he heard Derek's roar.

X-X-X-X

Stiles opened his eyes. He had closed them for fear of what Dante would do to him, but the Beta on top of him was dead weight, literally. Stiles pushed the limp body off of him and jumped to his feet. He saw the bullet hole in his chest, nearly in perfect alignment with his heart. The gun had luckily been loaded with an aconite bullet, and a shot that close ended his life almost immediately.

Stiles' adrenaline was pumping so fast that he was shaking. He aimed the gun at the Tahoe's driver side window, shattering it so that he could unlock the car from within. When he reached inside he saw that the door had been unlocked the entire time.

"Duh," Stiles mumbled, "Of course!" He hopped into the car and found the keys resting above the sunshade. He started the car and backed out of the driveway, blowing through the garage door and erupting into a subdivision. There were already people outside, obviously in response to the gunshot, who began recording the scene on their phones.

Stiles pulled off and sped towards the highway. He had no idea where he was going but anywhere was safer than that house.

Shortly after he escaped the pack returned to their home. Kate took immediate notice of the crowds out front and could faintly hear police sirens in the distance. The pack snuck through the woods behind the house and crept up to the back door.

Kate sat Gabi on the ground. She had returned to consciousness, but was still weak. Kate looked at the other unphased, half naked wolves around her.

"If anyone sees us they'll report us to the police," Kate said, "and we have to leave before the Hunters come after us. Adonna, Marcella, pack up everything. Giovanni, find Stiles and bring him to me. I'll stand guard."

After a few moments of the wolves combing the house Giovanni returned, "Kate, you were right, Dante's dead. And Stiles is gone, I'm sure he's the one who killed him."

Kate withheld what would have been a ground-shaking roar for fear of exposure. She punched a hole through the side of the house. Her anger was near uncontrollable.

"He took the Tahoe and he hasn't been gone long."

"Get the girls and meet me at the quarry," Kate hissed, "I'll bring our new Omega shortly."

With that, she disappeared.

X-X-X-X

Derek pulled his teeth out of Jackson's side. If the boy had been any stronger he would have wailed in pain, but he rested in Scott's embrace in a near catatonic state. Derek wiped his mouth, red blood stains streaking across his forearm, and stared at Melissa and Scott.

"That howl you heard," he said, "that's the howl of a lost pack member. Either Gabi died or another one of them is dead."

"I smelt something this time," Scott added, "when the other wolves showed up. I could tell Adonna and Marcella apart, and the other Alpha, she smelled a lot like Kate."

"Her dead aunt?" Melissa interjected.

"Yeah," Scott replied.

"Are you sure?" Derek stood to his feet, his anger beginning to flare.

"I think so, she wasn't here for very long and the blood from everyone around was getting in the way, but I swear that wolf reminded me of her. How is that possible?"

Derek looked into the still woods around them, "She could have been changed when her throat was slit, it's very unlikely that it would happen, but it could. If that was her…" Derek's exhales began to sound more like growls as he clenched his fists.

"But why can we just now tell who they are by their scent?" Scott asked, "We've fought them before."

"They're Hunters, right?" Melissa asked, "I'm pretty sure the Hunters have something to cover their scents in case they don't want to be followed or identified by wolves."

"She's right," Derek mumbled, "the night Gabi attacked me, when the Council 'ordered' my death, I couldn't catch her scent. If I had she would have never snuck up on me."

"So if Kate's alive…" Scott's words trailed off.

Derek turned to face him, his eyes red as blood, "Then we've got one more psycho bitch to kill."

Movement in trees behind them forced Derek into an offensive stance. His, along with his pack's, attention shifted to the intruder approaching them.

"Danny!" Scott shouted when he saw the lacrosse player standing against a nearby tree, his eyes wide open in astonishment. Danny's eyes were fixated on Jackson's body. Jackon's body was covered in blood and his hand that was originally holding his neck wound was lying on the ground. Scott had Jackson pulled against his body, trying to keep him warm and covering his injury. Jackson was unconscious.

"I-I-I," he stuttered, his usual olive-toned skin a pale white, "w-wh-wh."

"He's in shock," Melissa said, her nurturing instinct kicking in as she walked up to Danny and put her arms around him, "C'mon, let's get you home." She was powerless to help Jackson, a mere child in her eyes, but she would be able to help Danny.

Danny pushed himself away and shook his head, "I-I-I c-can't." He lifted his shirt and revealed the bite Giovanni has placed on his side.

"Damn it!" Derek yelled, his voice echoing around the woods.

"Shh!" Scott demanded, "What do you think will happen if someone calls the cops out here and I'm lying here with Jackson!"

Derek began to pace back and forth in front of Danny. His red eyes fixated on the soon-to-be Beta. Melissa hugged Danny tight to her body.

"You will not hurt him, Derek." She said through gritted teeth.

"I'm not a murderer," Derek barked back at her, "but he's going to be a Beta and will be nearly impossible to keep away from his Alpha. You should have seen what Scott went through."

Scott interrupted the two's heated argument, "What about the aconite base? The hunters use it in case one of their own gets bitten."

Derek shook his head, "He was bitten hours ago, there's no way it will work now. The only thing aconite will do to him now is kill him."

Scott shook his head, "Then he's a werewolf now. Danny can do it. He's one of us now, and Jackson will be too."

Melissa could not bring herself to look at Jackson, but kept her eyes fixated on Derek, "I will take care of him. I wasn't there for Scott, but I can be here for him."

The sound of a loud crash distracted the group from their debate. The sun had nearly risen, casting a pre-dawn bleak glow on the surrounding woods. A strong gust of wind forced its way through the woods and enveloped the wolves.

"Do you smell that?" Melissa asked.

"Stiles!" Scott exclaimed. He jerked to rush off in the direction of his best friend's scent, but could not release Jackson for fear of him loosing more blood. He looked up to tell Derek to go after him, but Derek had already disappeared into the trees.

X-X-X-X

Stiles gripped his side. Most of his smaller bruises, cuts, and scrapes were nearly healed, but the severe gash in his side tore back open in the conflict at the Fuoco house. He was bleeding slowly, but steadily, into the Tahoe. With no shirt to press against the wound he used his hand and the soaked bandage to hold as much of the blood inside of him as he could.

He forced himself not to look at it. His adrenaline had slowed and he was sure he would faint if he saw the blood. On top of his fleeting anxiety, he was lost. The night had brightened slightly to an early morning grey. It was nearing dawn.

In the distance he could vaguely make out his signal of salvation, the Beacon Hills Preserve. Not only was he going in the right direction, but he was closer to his home than he had originally thought. His will grew stronger as he pressed the Tahoe to drive as fast as it could.

Could Derek already smell him in the distance? Was Derek searching for him? Would Derek come for him before he was able to make it home? Stiles prayed that Derek would arrive soon, because he knew the pack would not be far behind him. The Tahoe rocking under the weight of something on the roof told him they were not far behind at all.

"Baby," Kate screamed as he punched a hole through the roof of the Tahoe, "pull over before I have to really hurt you."

Stiles pulled out the gun and fired it through the roof. Kate's howl of pain told him he had hit her somewhere. He tried to fire again, but her giant paw reached through the broken driver's side window and grabbed him. Stiles slammed on the brakes to try to loosen her grip, but she yanked him through the window and threw him towards the woods.

As he was flying through the air, time seemed to slow. He saw the Tahoe catch on its own brakes, and with the sudden release flip over into a fantastic wreck. He saw the dark haze that was Kate fly off of the roof and collide with the concrete. The visual distracted him momentarily, but he was brought back into the moment when he hit a large tree.

He slammed into it with an intense force and could hear his ribs break on impact. He couldn't feel them, similar to the way his senses were numb to Adonna and Marcella's torture, but he knew they were broken. His senses started to give way. His hearing was muffled, his sight blurry, but he could feel Kate's hand wrap around his neck.

He focused his vision and saw her lift him up and push him against the tree. Her shoulder was wounded, with black veins popping out near the bullet hold. She growled at the boy and squeezed his neck tighter.

"You would have been taken care of," Kate whispered, "but now you'll be tortured for the rest of your life, until we kill you or you kill yourself."

She bore her large canines, the only part of her that was phased, as she dug them into Stiles' shoulder. He would have screamed in pain if he thought it would do any good. His escape was over, and he had ruined what little chance at survival that he had.

He began to cry as he closed his eyes. His mind had overtaken his consciousness with wishful thinking and vain hopes. He could see Derek, Scott, Allison, Lydia, Jackson, and his father with him. All of them congratulating him for making it home. He could feel Derek wrap his arms around him, a sensation of safety overtaking him. Stiles opened his eyes to find he was still against the tree, Kate smiling in his face. He felt his heart sink, the feeling of safety was gone, and he couldn't retreat into his imaginary salvation any longer.

As he closed his eyes once more, his eyes tricked him. He thought he saw another Alpha running towards them, but he knew it wasn't really there.

X-X-X-X

_Chapter Fifteen_

"Chasing Cars_"_

_The Argents and Derek's pack realize the repercussions of Allison's actions and attempt to regroup after the events of the night. Lydia learns more about the Mother. Stiles finds his place in the pack. _


	15. Chasing Cars

_Chapter Fifteen_

_Chasing Cars_

It was abnormally cold for a Beacon Hills Winter. Snow usually lightly littered the ground through Christmas and the New Year, but in that oddly frigid December the snow had become a white blanket spread across the entire town. It had been nearly a week since he tried to escape, and for the first time since that fateful night Stiles opened his eyes.

He was in a different room, one that he did not recognize. His sight was blurred at first, but focused eventually to reveal an off-white wall decorated with homey artwork. There were two windows across from him, framed by long drapes, peering out onto the snowy landscape. Though his body was aching he turned from his back to his side and lifted the covers over him to examine himself.

To his surprise nearly all of his wounds were completely healed and unscarred. He had only one bandage covering his side; the place where Kate had bitten him. Stiles removed the bandage and saw the fainting trails of teeth marks, all scabbed over but not quite mended. He assumed his speeded healing from becoming a werewolf would have put him top condition, but then again his place was that of an Omega. The lowest wolf in the pack had to suffer, so his healing would have to be slowed.

Stiles exhaled deeply as he sat up in the bed, letting his feet touch the carpeted floor beneath him. Once his feet touched the soft floor he was taken back to the night he killed Dante, the first night he had stood on his own free will while with the pack. That small tactile sensation brought memories flooding back into his mind—violet flashes that made him begin to tremble.

His mind became divided. He had just recently obtained the ability to think for himself, after the mention of Derek coming for him weeks ago. Ever since that day he consciously struggled with his own viewpoint on what was happening to him. Part of him knew he was with the pack against his will-that he had been kidnapped, beaten, and tortured. But another part of him longed for the attention of the pack, moreso from Kate than anyone else.

Kate. She would be infuriated with him once she realized he was awake. He couldn't guess how long he had been unconscious from the bite, but the snow on the ground told him it must have been a while. He pictured the beating he would receive for killing Dante and trying to escape. He could feel the welts prematurely forming on his skin. He ran his hands through his hair to calm himself down, and was surprised to find that it had been cut.

The night he escaped his hair had been shaggy from weeks of entrapment, but now it was back to its usual buzz cut. He took a closer glimpse at his body and found small holes, like needle marks, in his arm. Had the pack taken him to the hospital? Was he that close to death? He began to rise from the bed, but sat back down, tense with fear, when he door to his room opened.

He expected shouting, maybe a swift beating to remind him of who owned him. But, to his surprise, nothing happened. His heart was beating loudly; he could feel it pounding against his sternum. His eyes stayed fixated on the snow outside, trying to keep himself from breaking down and begging for forgiveness. He knew Kate wouldn't like that.

"I'm sorry," he managed to choke out, his throat aching from the force it took him to speak.

"Stiles?" the scruffy voice that spoke to him sounded as though this person had just recovered from a spout of sobbing. This person also was not Kate.

Stiles closed his eyes, trying to place the voice with someone he knew. He heard the door close and footsteps approaching him. He clenched the sheets tightly as tears began to escape his eyes. His body began trembling.

"Please," Stiles begged, unwilling to open his eyes, "don't hurt me."

He felt hands rest on his knees. He jerked against being touched.

"Stiles," the voice spoke again, "open your eyes, please."

This time he recognized the voice. He wasn't sure if he was dreaming, or if he was actually with Derek. Either way, Stiles wanted to be with him, no matter if it was real or fantasy. Stiles opened his eyes. Derek was kneeling in front of him, his grey eyes looking directly into his.

"Derek?" Stiles asked, moreso to the room around him than to the man in front of him. His trembling began to subside, but his tears began to fall faster. Derek stood and pulled Stiles to his feet, wrapping his strong arms around him.

"Shh," Derek said, rubbing Stiles' back, "I'm here, I'm not letting you go."

Stiles continued to sob into Derek's shoulder, holding on to him tightly. The heat radiating from his body was a familiar feeling that made him feel like he was home. Stiles wanted to tell Derek what happened and how much he missed him, but the only thing that could come out of his mouth was choked syllables.

"It's okay, baby," Derek whispered, kissing Stiles' cheek, "you don't have to say anything. Just stay here with me."

X-X-X-X

Allison backed away from the door. Derek's comforting words to Stiles, mixed with Stiles' reaction, brought her to tears herself. She leaned against the hallway wall and slid down, sitting alone wiping her face, while reflecting on how thankful she was that Stiles was okay. Scott, probably attune to her sudden change in emotions, appeared beside her moments after she sat down.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Yeah," Allison nodded and stood to her feet. She took Scott's hand and began to guide him back down the stairs.

"Were you in there with Stiles?" Scott asked, "I can hear—"

"He's still unconscious, that's why I got upset."

Her words were rushed and wreaked of insincerity, but Scott continued to go with the flow as they went to the Argent dining room. Scott sat in a chair beside Allison.

"Is he still out?" Victoria asked.

"Yes," Allison said, cutting her eyes at her mom to signal that Derek was with him.

"Where did Derek go, then?" Melissa asked.

"He's up there in Stiles' room. I think he still feels guilty for what happened."

"Obviously," Chris retorted.

"I mean about Stiles getting kidnapped," Allison glared at her father and crossed her arms, "what happened here the other night is not Derek's fault."

"Who cares who's fault it is?" Jackson stood as he interjected into the conversation, "If they come for us, which from what you've been telling me they will, we can take them out."

"You've been a werewolf for all of 5 seconds and you're thirsty to kill?" Chris raised his eyebrow, "Sit your ass down."

Victoria placed her hand on Chris' arm and stared at Jackson, "Let's be clear, our intention is not to kill anyone."

"Other than the other wolves, right?" Danny asked.

"Yes." Chris said, an undertone of sorrow in his voice.

"Daddy," Allison took her father's hand, "If Derek and Scott are right and it is Kate behind this then we have to kill her."

The story was extremely convoluted; many details seemed to be either forgotten or intentionally missing from Derek's retelling of the events of Stiles' rescue. From what he told the group, he followed a scent strikingly similar to Kate's and found an Alpha wolf biting Stiles. After a quick, albeit intense, fight the Alpha rushed off leaving Stiles with Derek. He never saw her face or got a close look into her eyes, but he swore that it was her.

"This is your aunt," Chris said, "and my sister. I can't make this decision without knowing for certain that wolf is her."

"While we're on the topic of people close to us, what about Lydia?" Allison asked.

"I've been looking into the records surrounding the Mother," Victoria stated, "but since our incident with Gerard I've been cautious about calling the Council historians. Thus far we haven't heard anything good or otherwise from the Council and I'd like to keep it that way."

"What is the Mother?" Danny asked.

"She's the source of the werewolves," Scott replied, "she's basically like a legendary, but apparently a real, version of a mom."

"Until she was killed by the first Hunter," Victoria added.

"Wait," Allison interjected, "is that how she died?"

Victoria nodded, "The first Hunter, the one who began the Hunter's Council, murdered her. The history of the Council is just as mythological as that of the Werewolves, and the other creatures that we have hunted."

"Others?" Danny's eyes began to bulge.

"They're dead," Chris reassured him, "but there were _paranormal_ beings covering our world for thousands of years before they were brought under control. As the Council tells it, the Mother passed on supernatural abilities to her six children and each of them grew into very different beings, all of which grew to be a threat to humanity."

"All of them were threats?" Allison asked, arching her eyebrow at her mother.

"Due to recent events I'm starting to wonder myself," Victoria added, "but nevertheless, that is the history of the Council."

"That sounds more like genocide than heroics," Melissa said.

"What were the beings?" Danny asked.

"Well, the first that grew to be a threat were barbarians," Chris said, "Giants, Neanderthals, super-strong humanoids that were threatening human populations. Then came the vampires, werewolves, mages, psychics, and shape-shifters. At some point in history all of them have been hunted, and all of them have been destroyed, except for the Werewolves."

"Is it possible that some of the others are still alive?" Jackson questioned, his interest piqued in the conversation.

"Very possible," Chris said, "but if they are they would never risk revealing themselves. The last known vampire was killed in 1907 by the Fuoco clan. The last known mage died during the final phase of the Inquisition in 1830, and the last known psychic died soon after that. Barbarians were the first to suffer complete genocide, dying out near 1300 BC. Shape-shifters are actually reported to still live, but none have been spotted or reported in twenty years."

"Aren't we basically shape-shifters?" Danny asked.

"No," Victoria replied, "Werewolves are much stronger and restricted to just one form. Shape-shifters gain no new strength from their condition, they are merely able to imitate the form of other humans and animals."

"They're also born shape-shifters," Chris said, "they can't be 'infected.'"

"Don't get me wrong," Scott spoke up, "I'm enjoying this trip down memory lane, but shouldn't we be tracking the Fuoco pack while we still have time? Why are we still at the house?"

"I'll go get Derek," Melissa stood to go upstairs to retrieve him.

"No," Victoria stated, "You've got Chris and Scott, both of them are more than able to help you track. I'll stay here with Derek to wait in case Stiles wakes up."

Allison grinned at her mother, who had revealed to her that she knew about Derek and Stiles' relationship.

"That sounds great," she said, "gear up and let's go."

X-X-X-X

Derek kissed the back of Stiles' neck. The boy had fallen asleep in his arms after a bout of unstoppable tears. He was unsure if Stiles was overwhelmed by being rescued, or if he was withdrawing from his time with the Fuoco pack. Knowing the symptoms of post-traumatic stress he assumed it was a mix of both.

Derek lightly removed his arms from around Stiles when a knock sounded on the room's door. He quietly crept out of the bed and opened the door, stepping out of it when he saw Victoria awaiting his presence.

"How is he?" Victoria asked, taking note of Derek's appearance. His eyes were red from crying, his cheeks flushed, and his hair disheveled.

Derek nodded, "He's awake. Physically he's fine."

"Did the aconite base work?"

Derek nodded again, "He's not a Werewolf, so yes."

Victoria pressed a smile across her face, "That's good to hear, we need some good news."

Derek nodded once more, but she could easily see that he was troubled. Call it a mother's instinct, but even his non-verbal communication was enough weaken his strong exterior. She closed the small distance between them and hugged him, placing her hand on the back of his head and allowing him to rest it on her shoulder.

"You don't have to say anything," she whispered, "but I know you're not okay."

She could swear she heard a small sniffle, but was mostly surprised that Derek wrapped his arms around her and gripped her tightly. He had spent most of the previous few years alone. His mother was long dead, and his own uncle stole his sister, the last positive remnant of his family, from him. Derek had a tough life, and, though he never harped on it his daily life, it was taking a toll on him.

"This is my fault," he whispered, "I shouldn't have gone to the hospital."

"Shh," Victoria rubbed his back, "If you hadn't been there Lydia, her mother, and Mellissa would all be dead. Scott would likely be dead as well."

"But Stiles…"

"It was a tragedy," Victoria released his head from her shoulders and placed both on hands on his cheeks, lightly locking their eyes for a moment, "you did everything you could. We should have been there to support you. The blame can be placed anywhere, but where it truly belongs is on the Fuocos."

Derek nodded and pulled away from her embrace, "I'm going to go back in with him, I don't want him to wake up alone again."

Victoria took his hand, "I know you've gotten used to doing things alone. I just want you to know that you have a family here. I'm not much of a mother, but I'd be happy to have you here with us—a permanent home."

Derek grinned, "Except for when the Council comes and burns it down."

Victoria shook her head, "They can try."

Derek turned and gave her a hug once more. She was trying to help him, and he appreciated it. He opened the door to Stiles' room but stopped when she spoke once more.

"I sent the group on a Hunt. Allison and I are going to make sure you get as much alone time with him as you can."

"Thank you," Derek said as he closed the door.

When he walked towards the bed he noticed Stiles was not there. He heard the shower running in the room's bathroom, so took a moment to sit on the bed and collect himself. He had never been the type to verbally express his emotions. When he tried he usually came off as enraged. But in that moment his anger and melancholy about the past few months faded. A small grin stretched across his face as he realized that he, his pack, and the Argents were a family. They were a dysfunctional collection of extreme personalities, but he knew they would win.

X-X-X-X

Lydia slid an exposure regulator on her photo editing software to make her eyes pop in her new profile picture. She trimmed it, added a slimming effect, and a blur for extra emphasis before uploading it as her Facebook profile picture. She smiled in appreciation of her skills and shut her laptop.

She drank the last bit of water her mom had brought her with dinner before sitting down in front of her vanity. She began her normal nightly routine by washing off her make-up and admiring her natural beauty. She was not quite narcissistic, but did appreciate the fact that she looked so good.

"Not a bad look for a trauma victim."

Lydia froze in her seat. Her reflection grinned at her through the mirror. She rose her hand to find that the reflection was following suit. Her heart began to pulse. Her reflection had just spoken to her.

"Calm down," the reflection said, "I can hear your heartbeat all the way over here." As it spoke her reflection faded and appeared in her full length mirror across the room.

Lydia jumped to her feet and began to back away as her reflection stepped out of the full-length mirror. As its foot escaped the body began to transform. Lydia's short hourglass figure faded to a slimmer physique. Her pink nighty changed to a strapless black gown. Her hair shifted from lightly-curled red to straight and black. Her skin became paler, her features more angular, and before her eyes a new person stood in front of her.

This woman's beauty was striking and somewhat classical. Her gown was ornate, flowing to the ground and trailing behind her. The woman tilted her head and examined Lydia.

"Don't be afraid," she said, her voice no more than a whisper.

Lydia's lips were trembling. She pressed her back against he wall opposite the intruder, "W-w-wh-who a-are you?'

The woman stepped closer to her, "Nyx, Nox, Ereshkigal, Thelema, Nott, but most call me Mother."

Lydia blinked rapidly and then shook her head, "Y-you're n-n-not really here."

Nyx shook her head, "No, I'm not. I'm laced within your mind. We are one."

Lydia exhaled deeply, "What d-do you want?'

Nyx closed the distance between them, much to Lydia's aversion. She took Lydia's hand and kissed it.

"My darling," she said as she ran her hand across Lydia's cheek, "our time has come. We must be joined."

"Joined?" Lydia pulled her hand away, "I'm not a lesbian."

Nyx forcefully grabbed Lydia's face, "The time for fear is gone. To embrace me, to attain my powers, my command, you must know me."

Lydia's skin began to crawl, "We've met."

"Close your eyes, child," she instructed, "when you wake you will understand."

Though Lydia could not fathom sleeping she found herself growing tired. Her stance faltered as her weary will faded to calm relaxation. She hit the floor hard, but did not feel it. Her eyes closed while she was at Nyx's feet. The woman's words echoed in her mind as she drifted off into slumber.

X-X-X-X

_Chapter Sixteen_

_A Broken Wing_

_A conflict of interest sparks controversy between the Argents and Lydia. Derek helps Stiles recover as the rest of the pack returns to school for the brief weeks before Winter Holiday._


	16. A Broken Wing

Author's Note: Thanks for all of the reviews and support. To answer a question I've been receiving: I have not given up on Supremacy. The chapters take a bit longer to write, but I have not abandoned it to finish up Dangerously In Love, The Last Song, or Travelin' Soldier. Again, thanks for the reviews and I hope you enjoy the chapter :)

_Chapter Sixteen_

_A Broken Wing_

Nearly an hour had passed. He sat in silence waiting for Stiles to return to him, but the constant flow of the shower acted as a signal that he would have to wait longer. As that hour stretched towards two he became concerned. What if something had happened to him while in there, alone, without anyone to watch over him? Derek attempted to fight the need to guard him, but with the past experiences clogging his mind he realized he would be unable to fight the urge. Distance, at least in that moment, was not an option.

Derek opened the door to the adjacent bathroom and walked in. He saw Stiles staring at himself in the mirror. The steaming water flowing in the shower thickened the room with an ominous mist. Stiles' fair skin was slightly pink with trails of water slipping down his body into the white towel wrapped firmly around his waist. Stiles did not react to Derek's presence in the room. He was utterly oblivious to his surroundings, and to Derek's guess he did not even realize the water was still running.

The Alpha stepped around Stiles and reached in the shower, turning the water off. The room was sickeningly silent after the low roar of the faucet stopped. Derek tuned his hearing into Stiles' breathing and his heartbeat, both of which were low and steady. He moved behind Stiles and put his hands on the boy's hips. "Are you okay?" he whispered as he kissed his neck.

Stiles slowly turned around, his hazel eyes meeting Derek's. His expression was calm and expectant, but Derek could see in Stiles' eyes that he was unsettled. He could not decipher the gaze Stiles was placing on him, almost as if he were looking right through him. Stiles placed his hands on Derek's chest and pushed him back against the wall.

"What—" Derek began to speak, but stopped when Stiles dropped to his knees. Stiles instinctively unbuttoned Derek's jeans and loosened his belt. He slid Derek's pants to the ground and locked his grip on his underwear. Derek quickly grabbed Stiles hands and backed away, "What are you doing?"

Stiles looked up to Derek with saddened eyes. His muscles clenched tightly and his heartbeat increased. He tried to talk but the only word that Derek could decode was "Sorry."

He pulled his pants up and kneeled down to the ground. Tears began to escape Stiles' eyes as he tried to back away from him. Derek slid closer to Stiles and put his hands on his shoulders, pulling Stiles into a hug. The boy began to non-verbally panic, the signal in his heart rate and breathing told Derek he was scared.

"Shh," Derek said as he rubbed Stiles' bare back, "It's me, Derek, I'm not going to hurt you."

Stiles had begun to quiver, but slowly that melted away as he relaxed into Derek's embrace. They sat there on the floor for an immeasurable amount of time before Derek realized Stiles had fallen asleep in his arms. He gently picked the boy up and walked him back into the bedroom. He tucked him into the bed and took a seat in a chair near a window.

He leaned forward and stared at Stiles, the pale moonlight giving his skin an eerie blue tone. He knew what was happening, but tried to advert his thoughts for fear of his uncontrollable anger. If he allowed himself to slip, to shift, he would not be able to stop himself from hunting down that pack and taking them all out himself.

He assumed they would do this to Stiles. In fact, Derek was plagued with nightmares of it during Stiles' disappearance. On top of the mental and physical abuse an Omega takes in training for his pack, they also sexually abuse them as a means to break their mental stability and satiate their own needs. Derek clenched his knees with his hands. His claws began to form on the tips of his fingers. His grip was so solid that he began to pierce his own skin. He could feel his muscles and bones shifting as the anger he felt burned throughout his body. His rage was uncontrollable and no matter how hard he fought he could feel himself shifting.

"Derek?"

The shifting suddenly stopped. Stiles' voice served as an ice-bath for his burning blood. Derek's claws began to recede, his hair shortened, and his fangs disappeared. He rose from his seat and kneeled beside the bed, his red eyes back to their smoky blue.

Stiles opened his eyes as a weak smile spread across his face, "I love you."

Derek grabbed Stiles' hand and gently kissed it, his stubble ticking his skin, "I love you too."

X-X-X-X

_1100 BC_

She had heard the stories many times. She heard of how Nut, the Egyptian goddess of the sky, was tormented by Ra, the Egyptian sun god, for fear that she could potentially usurp his power. In the stories, which composed the bases of the Egyptian polytheistic beliefs, Nut's ability to have children was stripped from her. Through alliances with other gods she found a short window where she could give birth, and had five children. These children were Osiris, god of the dead, Isis, goddess of nature and magic, Set, god of the desert, Nephthys, the priestess, and Arueris, the Egyptian counterpart to the then-unknown Apollo. Nut was a revered figure for her role in birthing Ra every morning and her role keeping the forces of chaos out of the ordered cosmos. Still, she was demonized for fear of her power. Even though she was able to give birth to five children she was eventually separated from her husband Geb and never gave birth to another child.

But these were just stories. She grew tired of the intricacies of Egyptian mythology and regarded the religion as little more than a fairytale. She lived her life as a dark haired, black-eyed beauty. She was well known in Khent-min for her magnificence, but was also the topic of the town's gossip due to her fair skin. No matter the amount of time she spent in the sun her skin was still strikingly white, causing many in the city to stir rumors that she was immune to Ra, the sun god's, power. When she was a child she was harassed by fanatics, which led to her distaste for religion. They called her Nut's incarnation.

Her mother would comfort her and call her a living goddess. The harassment became more of a compliment through her mother's words and well into her teenage years she relied on that confidence in her times of depression. Indeed, her mother was the best friend, and only friend, that she had. Even her father who never spoke ill of her shied way from her presence for fear of what she could represent. She never understood his apprehension until they came.

One night while the city was sleeping six men clad in golden armor stormed her home. They yelled as they searched the house, their language no doubt the royal dialect she knew only due to tax collections. She knew the rumors must have spread to the capital, possibly to the ears of the Pharaoh himself, for royal military to come to her home. Her father threw her mother into the room with her. Her mother held her closely, tears flooding down her face, as the men screamed and eventually killed her father. The door to her room flew open as the men came in and jabbed her mother through the heart. She was powerless to stop them and curled into a corner with tears flowing down her face.

The men reached out to grab her, speaking of her demanded presence in the royal court. She tugged against them as they began to drag her out of her home. Onlookers watched as they tugged her through the streets. In that moment, for the first time in her life, she prayed. She clenched her eyes shut and only opened them when she was free. Onlookers screamed as she stood to her full height, her black eyes burning. The men were lying dead around her, each of them with a slit across their necks. As she shifted her gaze to those around her they scurried through the streets as far away from her as possible.

She looked down to her hands and saw blood. She could not understand how she was the one responsible for their deaths; after all she was only free once they collapsed. Once word made it back to Thebes she knew they would destroy the town and hunt her relentlessly. She was powerless to stop these men, much less a larger armed force. She fell to her knees and prayed once more. If she were the living incarnation of Nut, the very thing the town feared most about her, then she would come to her aid.

The following moments were, literally, where the myths of old must have began. Before her eyes the men stood, their wounds healed, and kneeled in reverence to her. She fled the town under their guard. The men took care of her, ensuring that she would never be harmed. Since that night, though the men around her aged and died, she remained her youthful state. She was too modest to call it immortality, but there was no other explanation.

The men led their lives near her, gaining wives and having children, all of which responded to her as if she was their ruler. She grew to love them all and feared for their lives if she were to ever be found. The fact that they kept hidden from the rest of the world was that each one of them was different—gifted. The six men were imbued with abilities that she could not explain, and those abilities passed down to each of the children. After nearly a hundred years in seclusion her small hut had morphed into a large village.

For fear of their discovery she ordered most of her children out of the village to return to society in seclusion. Each was commanded to hide their abilities and live their lives as normal humans. Only a small vanguard stayed with her to ensure her safety.

Many years later, again in the dead of night, a traveler passed by the nearly vacant village. Her vanguards had died many years before and she lived in solace praying that her children were safe. This traveler came to her and called her "Mother," as all of her children did. She opened her arms in acceptance, wishfully hoping her child had returned to stay, when he stabbed a golden dagger through her heart.

He called himself the Hunter, and whispered in her ear as she died that all of her children would soon meet the same fate.

_Present Day_

Lydia jerked awake. She frantically scanned the room as she sat up and backed against the wall. The sun had risen outside, illuminating her fair skin. She rushed up to her full-length mirror and examined herself. She looked no different than before, but she knew something was changed within her. She exhaled heavily and closed her eyes. When she opened them, the Mother was standing in her place in the mirror.

"Now," she murmured, "do you understand?"

Lydia closed her eyes as she recollected her thoughts from the long, seemingly never-ending, dream she just awoke from. The fear the girl felt, the betrayal, the hatred. She figured that was closest she would ever get to feeling what Derek and Scott must have felt being Werewolves.

Lydia nodded, "I understand."

The Mother grinned and nodded, "Now, we are one. I can give you no power but knowledge. However, with us together, we may be able to save them."

Lydia's mom opened the door and walked in, "Lydia, you've got to be at school in an hour. Get ready!"

Lydia tried to cover the reflection in the mirror, "God! MOM! What if I was naked! Get out!" When her mom scoffed and closed the door Lydia returned to her reflection to find that it was just her staring back.

X-X-X-X

Stiles' memorial had grown since his first disappearance. Pictures of him from the yearbook, his old lacrosse gear, letters of prayers for his safe return, and other small mementoes littered the floor in front of the small hallway memorial. The longer he was gone the more people seemed to care about him. He would call them fake, but at any moment during the school day you could find at least three people crowded around his memorial. Scott, Allison, Jackson, and Danny stood in front of it on their first day back from Thanksgiving break.

"It feels so surreal," Allison said, her arm locked with Scott's, "I didn't even think about it before now, but Sheriff Stilinski still thinks he's missing."

"We can't tell him yet," Scott replied.

"Obviously," Jackson retorted, "what are we gonna say? 'Oh, Werewolves kidnapped him and we are all Werewolves too but we're the good ones and so don't kill us?'"

Danny elbowed Jackson, "Stop being a dick."

"Don't worry, he'll be dead soon enough."

The foursome turned quickly to see Gabi standing behind them. She looked good, as though she had never been close to dying.

"I mean, you all will, but him especially. You can't murder someone in the Fuoco pack and expect to live very long."

Scott, Jackson, and Danny's eyes all turned yellow. Gabi chuckled.

"Really boys?" She shook her head and looked to Allison, "Before you could touch me I could kill her, and then you would be minus a bitch in your pack and out yourselves to everyone in this school."

Allison stepped in front of the Beta trio, "I can take care of myself."

Gabi stepped closer to her, "Like you did with the Council, with your grandfather?"

Allison pursed her lips together. She could hear Scott's low growl behind her, "What did you do to them."

Gabi shrugged, "Their part was played. After all, we can't have the Council interfering, right? We killed the thugs. Your grandfather is still alive though, barely. He still has his part to play."

"Where is he?" Allison closed the last bit of space between her and Gabi. They were so close that they could feel each other's breath.

"I don't know," Gabi grinned as she backed away, "but we figured leaving the Council out of this would be a little boring, so we mailed the bodies to them. Enjoy your Christmas, because this little town is about to get a lot more interesting." Gabi turned and walked away, leaving the four standing in a mixed set of rage and sudden terror.

Danny shivered, "Okay, I put on a good mug, but did she really mail—"

"Yes," Allison interrupted, "I'm sure she did. We have to tell my parents."

"Well before you tell them anything I need to talk to all of you."

The four of them turned again and found Lydia standing to their side.

"Lydia," Allison took her friend's hands, "I'm sorry, but we have a lot to do."

"I know," she said, "and now you've got even more. I met the Mother."

X-X-X-X

He was astounded at the sudden change in the group's composition. There were two more Werewolves and a supernatural much stronger than even she knew. Dr. Deaton rubbed his temple as he tried to organize his thoughts. "Why come to me?"

"Because," Scott stood from his seat, "We've got a lot to deal with and we don't know how Allison's parents are going to take it. They don't really seem to know that much about the Mother anyway, maybe you can fill us in?"

"Everything she's said sounds accurate," Dr. Deaton glanced to Lydia, who was sitting on his operating table as calm as if she were at a party, "that's how the legends tell the story. Each of her original guardians was a basic reincarnation of Nut's children. Each was granted some ability similar to the originals."

"So," Lydia said as she examined her nails, "what now?"

Dr. Deaton exhaled heavily, "For now, keep this a secret. Your family, Allison, no matter how liberal they seem in their associations may react differently if they find that Lydia is actually in tune with the Mother."

"They didn't seem to care before. My Mom said she spoke to the Mother in her dreams." Allison's tone was pointed, as if Dr. Deaton was accusing her parents of treachery.

"Well," he shrugged, "I figure they didn't really believe she was the Mother. They may have had some different explanation for her immunity. No matter how well they have adjusted to these situations I doubt they will be able to change their outlook on her. After all, the Hunters do believe she is evil."

Lydia jumped to her feet, "She's a victim. I saw what happened to her."

Dr. Deaton sighed, "You saw what she wanted you to see. I'm assuming they'll come up with that conclusion. You will die either way. For now, keep this a secret. Keep everything a secret. There is no need to draw any unnecessary stress on your family, Allison. I honestly doubt the Fuoco's would be so bold as to send dismembered bodies to the Council."

"Says the fairy," Jackson sighed.

"He's a fairy?" Danny asked.

"Really, guys?" Allison glared at the two boys before turning to Dr. Deaton, "It's getting late. My house has been kind of our HQ since all of this happened so we should get back. Thank you for the help."

"Anytime." Dr. Deaton followed the kids out through his lobby door. He shut it behind him and locked it. As he walked back to his office caught a glimpse of a feminine figure sitting on his operating table. She was in the exact same spot as Lydia mere moments before. He walked back to the door and looked at her, "How much did you hear?"

"Everything."

X-X-X-X

_Next Chapter_

_Extraordinary Merry Christmas_

_Victoria forces the family to have the perfect holiday, Dr. Deaton addresses Lydia's condition, Sheriff Stilinski receives an anonymous tip about Stiles' location_


	17. Extraordinary Merry Christmas

_Chapter Seventeen_

_Extraordinary Merry Christmas_

Dr. Deaton walked through the door into the operating room. He stepped cautiously, as if he were afraid of the woman sitting on the table. Once he was inside of the doorway she jumped up, landing lightly on her feet. Her appearance would be seen as absurd, similar to Black Widow cosplay, if she were to walk around in broad daylight. However, given Dr. Deaton's knowledge of her it only added to the intimidation that was coursing through his veins.

"Calm down, Alan," she said as she walked over to his window, getting a clear glimpse of the crescent moon. The pale light illuminated her fair features and made her eyes glimmer with a purple hue, "I'm not here with any bad news."

Alan stepped cautiously up to the window beside her. Next to him she stood a few inches short, her thigh high combat boots adding nearly no height to her stature. The guns strapped around her waist made him uncomfortable, but he knew it was a necessary accessory for someone in her position. He cleared his throat, "I'm sorry, I should have told you when I found out."

She nodded, sliding a loose strand of her straight brown hair behind her ear, "You should have. I'm disappointed, Alan." She turned to stare at him. Outside of the moonlight her eyes turned to a simple, deep blue, "If I wasn't a Cog I still wouldn't know, would I?"

"I thought someone else would have contacted you. I told the Children about Gerard and the Fuoco pack," he replied.

"But not about the Mother?" she walked over to his countertop and picked up a syringe, "I had to read the minds of every child in this room. Even they don't know what's going on."

"You can't go there."

"I can, and I will," she gripped the syringe and stared at the vet, "someone at that house can give me the answers I need. This is just in case you want to stop me, or contact the Children." She held up the syringe so that its needle point glimmered in the moonlight.

"The Children don't know you're here?"

"No," she laughed lightly, "you think they would let me come here with him involved? With the Mother about to emerge? I took it upon myself to investigate."

"And what if you find something you don't like?"

"I've found plenty I don't like," she snapped, "this pack is going to eliminate what's left of the family I had to leave to protect, and I'll be damned if a few rules from the Children will stop me from fixing this."

"You're not going to kill her, are you?"

"No," she snapped again, this time with a tone of offense in her voice, "I wouldn't kill an innocent. But I will be there when the Mother emerges, and then I'll kill her."

This was their strategy. The Hunters Council had tried many times throughout their thousands of years of existence to find and kill the Mother's host, which only hindered the Children's goal. The Children sought to release the Mother, and then kill her in her true form. The theory was that once she had been born again into the mortal world she would be mortal herself, and therefore could be finished off for good.

"You need to tell the Children before you do this," Alan continued, "you need protection, she may be reborn with more power than she originally possessed. I know you're a powerful Cog, but telekinesis and mind control may not help you here."

"That's why you're here," she turned and walked a bit closer to Alan, locking stares with him, "A Cog and a Shifter have to be enough to take her down. Isn't that why you were put here in the first place?"

Alan crossed his arms over his chest. She was right. She was talking about his placement, which happened nearly 60 years before. His job was to observe the Hale pack, and support any action the Children needed to take. During that time he grew close to the Hales, very close, and could not bear the thought of having the wrath of the Children brought down on Beacon Hills, on Derek and Scott, when they found that the Mother was building her strength.

"You know I couldn't. They would have defended Lydia, they wouldn't understand. You would have killed them."

"We wouldn't have killed them, Alan, we actually operate by our Code."

Alan nodded, "They're at the Argent's house." She squeezed his hand in appreciation and turned. She was nearly out of the door before Alan stopped her. "Leah, you can't tell him. You can't tell any of them. They're going through enough as it is."

She pursed her lips and pushed his hand off of her arm, "I'm his mother, and I'll do what I want." With that she disappeared into the night.

X-X-X-X

She had gone crazy. Insane, actually. Everyone shared a similar thought when they walked through the front door of the Argent house and found Chris standing on a ladder spinning silver tinsel boas around the staircase rails. They had to step cautiously around cluttered boxes of ornaments, bundled lights, outdoor decorations, wreathes, and snow paint. If that wasn't enough to remind them that Christmas was less than a month away, the 10-foot Christmas tree positioned in the living room made it more than apparent.

"You're home!" Victoria exclaimed as she walked in from the kitchen holding two extension cords, "And you brought everyone!"

Allison, Lydia, Scott, Jackson, and Danny all stood with their eyes wide in fear. Allison's mother wasn't an exceptional example of warmth and caring, despite her recent nurturing attitude. It was uneasy seeing her surrounded by decorations for a holiday that was both joyous and out of place for their near-apocalyptic circumstances.

"Well don't just stand there!" Victoria began to pass out different items for the teens to hang up and decorate with. Her directions were hurried, but exact. They could tell she was going out of her way to deck the halls to spread a little bit of cheer, probably to soften the blow of the macabre events of the previous weeks. She would come around as they were doing their tasks and took the time to correct them on what they were doing wrong, and then paint a smile across her face and sprinkle words of encouragement among them.

"What is happening?" Allison whispered to her father as she wrapped lights around banishers while he unrolled them for her.

He rolled his eyes, "I don't know. She came in about an hour ago with all of these boxes and started ranting about Christmas."

"I know I'm new here," Danny said as he passed them, frosting the mirrors and windows through the house, "but if I hear 'Happy Holiday' or 'Merry Christmas' again I'm going to kill myself."

Down the stairs Lydia and Jackson were tasked with lighting the tree, hanging tinsel, and decorating it with ornaments. Despite their somewhat awkward relationship following the formal, they felt almost at home decorating the tree together. Lydia couldn't help but peek over at Jackson and grin. When he would catch her would act put-out, almost as if it was obvious she was staring at him, and then smile back.

"You know what this reminds me of?" Jackson asked, draping a clump of tinsel over a few branches on the tree. Lydia raised her eyebrows and shrugged. Jackson continued, "Remember last year, when your parents were getting their divorce, and I helped you and your mom decorate? She ran out crying and we had to do everything ourselves?"

"That's nice of you to say," Lydia took some of the tinsel out of his inartistic clump and spread it out more evenly, "but you know I was a mess too. You did most of it."

"That was my favorite Christmas, our first one together."

Lydia stared at him. Jackson was never much for verbal expressions of affection, and neither was she. She grinned and exhaled heavily, "Is this going be our second one together?"

Jackson shook his head, "You wish you were that lucky."

Lydia punched him on his arm, "You're such a dick!"

Jackson laughed and reached out to grab her hand, "Okay, maybe I'd like that."

Lydia pulled her hand away, "Like I want to date a dog anyway."

Their back-and-forth made both of them laugh together. They shared a deep stare and felt a similar gravity pull them closer together. Jackson put his hands on her hips and she reached up to wrap hers around his neck, until Victoria asked for help putting the star on top of the tree and interrupted them.

Scott rushed upstairs after he finished hanging stockings above their fireplace to find Allison and Chris continuing with the lights. He leaned down and whispered quickly in Allison's ear, "Any news on Stiles?" When she shook her head he nodded and walked back down the stairs. When he was out of earshot Chris looked up to his daughter and glared at her.

"What?"

Chris shrugged, "You never keep secrets from him, why are you keeping this one?"

"What?"

Chris grinned, "I know about Derek and Stiles, your mom told me."

"Oh," Allison immediately shifted her gaze from him, "I mean—I"

"It's okay," Chris said, "I'm don't care. And judging by how they all treat Danny I don't think anyone will care about them."

Allison shrugged, "Derek and Scott still aren't on solid ground, I think that's why we're all keeping it quiet."

Chris nodded and looked over toward Stiles' door, "Your mom offered Derek a room here, to live. Did you know that?"

Allison smiled briefly and peered to the bottom floor. She found her mother downstairs instructing Danny on how to center their Christmas wreaths on their doors. Her mother had genuinely surprised her over the course of the previous month, but offering Derek a home made her nearly well up in tears.

"I didn't," Allison shook her head, "I guess she really is in the Christmas spirit."

X-X-X-X

A bite from an Alpha can injure even the strongest Werewolf. Derek's wounds from his confrontation with Kate, or the wolf he assumed was Kate, took weeks to heal. As the final weeks of school faded into winter break Stiles made small strides to a full recovery. The physical wounds were the simplest to take care of. Derek meticulously changed Stiles' bandages and applied different creams concocted by Dr. Deaton and the Argents. T To ensure there was no lingering trace of the Alpha bite that turn Stiles into a wolf he made him drink the bitter aconite base daily.

Victoria, Allison, and Chris took a few moments each day to help Derek take care of Stiles. The way his eyes watched him so cautiously made each of them walk away with a deeper understanding of Derek's love for him. Each grunt or pain-induced moan out of Stiles' mouth made Derek jump instantly to his side. His strong hands gave him a gentle touch to aid his injuries until one day there was little left but light scars to indicate the torture he endured.

The emotional damage was much worse. There were times Stiles would be completely coherent and pester Derek with jibs about his uncomfortably high body heat, unshaven face, over-styled hair, or pouty face. There were times when Stiles seemed like the boy who pulled him from his burning estate. But then there were nights that came too frequently that reminded Derek of what he went through.

Sometimes, when Stiles was sleeping silently in his arms, he would wake up and push Derek off of him. He would back away in fear until Derek reminded him that he was safe. There were times when Stiles would slip into a vacant stare and enter an almost catatonic stupor for hours. Even worse were the times Stiles would look at him in horror, cowering away from Derek at the mere sight of him.

As with all things, this eventually came to an end. Though Derek would hold him when he would scream in his sleep and he felt like he was being pushed to the brink of his sanity, Stiles eventually lapsed back into his almost normal self. Eventually, as Derek re-entered the room from having dinner with the Argents he found Stiles showered, dressed, and smiling.

"This is a surprise," Derek said as he closed the door.

Stiles walked up to Derek without even a remote trace of a limp and bit his lower lip, "I want to tell them, about us."

"Them?" Derek asked.

"Yeah," he wrapped his arms around Derek, securing a tight hold from him, "you saved me, Derek. If they can't see how real this is, how right it is, then that's their problem."

Derek kissed Stiles' forehead, "Okay, but I don't want to rush you. I mean, I—"

"You're mine," Stiles looked up to meet Derek's gaze, "and I want everyone to know it. Anyway, if Danny can be gay so can I."

"So you're gay now?" Derek asked, grinning.

"I'm gay for you," Stiles laughed, "completely, totally, crazily gay for you."

Derek squeezed Stiles' hips and kissed him, "I'm kind of gay for you too."

X-X-X-X

"Stiles!" Allison exclaimed, soaking up the image of him, completely healthy, approaching the Argent's dining room table. Derek told him that they were having a meeting to talk about their further actions regarding the Fuoco threat, one that Victoria would commanded to be their last until after the holiday. Stiles decided this was the best time to make his grand entrance.

Stiles was met with hugs from the girls, and most of the guys. When Jackson came up they stared at each other for a moment, until Jackson pulled him into an embrace. He told Stiles it was good to see him okay, and Stiles said Jackson didn't look as evil being a Werewolf as he thought he would. They were all there, and Stiles had quite a bit of catching up to do. He listened intently as Victoria, Chris, Derek, Scott, Allison, Jackson, Danny, Melissa, and Lydia filled him in on the attacks, their decision to change into wolves, and the newly established Argent-Werewolf alliance.

Though he was full of an unexplainable happiness seeing everyone gathered together, he could tell there was something wrong. When Lydia spoke of the Mother she spoke much too dismissively of herself for her usual style, and he could feel a tension when Allison spoke of seeing Gabi at school. He honestly did not want to divulge in complicated details so soon after his recovery, but part of being himself was to be inquisitive—painfully so.

Once they were done running down their action plan, to apprehend Gabi at school in the coming year, Stiles took the opportunity to "come out" to the group. He assumed he would get mixed reactions from them, but instead they were completely accepting. Lydia seemed shocked, and Scott didn't look pleased, but that would be a conversation the two would have to have separately. A comic relief was brought about by, out of all people, Jackson.

"Well, the two of you already argue and hit each other. Well, he hits you, but whatever. Might as well start dating, right?"

The laughter, some nervous and some sincere, erupted instantly and Jackson looked really pleased with himself.

"Now," Chris brought the attention back to the conversation, "we're going to have dinner together, but then we have to figure out how we're going to tell the Sherriff."

A strong pang of guilt coursed through Stiles' body, and judging by their faces he could tell Chris, Victoria, Melissa, Scott, and Derek were feeling it too. He took so long to recover and was so happy to be stable that he completely forgot about his father. Through their combative but comical relationship they had formed a strong bond, and Stiles felt as though he had completely disregarded it. The pang of guilt was so real, so sharp, that Stiles instantly felt short of breath. It became even harder for him to breathe when he saw red and blue flashing lights shine through the Argents' windows.

X-X-X-X

The following hours were a blur of uncertainty. Sherriff Stilinski showed up to the house holding a warrant to search the Argent house, claiming to have received an anonymous tip that Stiles was with the Argents. Derek instantly grabbed him in Stiles' state of disillusionment and hid him from his father's eyes. It wasn't until after his team searched the house and he had to apologize as they withdrew that Victoria grabbed him.

"Can we speak with you alone?"

When Stiles first saw his father neither of them knew what to do. There were a few muscle spasms that nearly made him lose balance. His body couldn't decide if it wanted to run up to him or run away. The explanation was harder than anything Stiles ever had to do. Indeed, Melissa had to do most of it for him. After all, she had to deal with a very similar circumstance after the attack on the hospital.

His father was in disbelief, but that doubt turned to fear when Scott willingly shifted in front of him. Derek stepped in to explain what happened, how it happened, and why he was sitting in a room surrounded by wolves and their Hunters. Whether it was blind acceptance or a lack of ability to retain any more wall-shattering information, Sherriff Stilinski began to accept what was happening around him.

Though Victoria tried to intervene, demanding that it was Christmas and everyone should be thankful to be together, Stiles' dad immediately jumped into compiling a falsified report of Stiles' whereabouts, as well as methods of proving that the Fuocos needed to be apprehended. Despite their verification that the police would not be able to contain the Fuocos, the Sherriff insisted that at least the police could serve as extra eyes to help them locate the murderers.

Stiles wondered if his dad was so intent on helping because of them being his kidnappers, or because he could not mentally comprehend what had heard. Stiles could see anger in his face, confusion in his eyes, but his voice commanded a strong resolve to attend to business as usual. In that case, business was stopping the Fuocos.

Stiles resigned to go home with the Sherriff once he finished filing his report at the station, but despite the short time they would be apart the Sherriff hugged him tightly and whispered, "I missed you, son."

X-X-X-X

That was the first night Derek spent by himself. He found himself sleeping in the bed on his side, arms outstretched as if Stiles was laying there. He began to drift into an uncomfortable rest when his attention was alerted to the sound of light footsteps outside of his window. He spryly jumped from the bed and to the window in time to see a dark figure leaping from the roof. It landed and swung its head back, glaring through the window before whipping its long hair around and rushing off.

Derek opened the window and found a small note left on its sill. This was normally the routine he practiced with Victoria when she was communicating for the Mother. As soon as he read the note he knew that wasn't a cryptic backslide from Allison's holiday elated mother.

_Watch your boyfriend._

Derek felt his body temperature rise. Whoever this was would pay for threatening Stiles. He immediately ripped off his shirt as he began to phase into the Alpha wolf. He catapulted himself through the window and once he landed on the ground he had fully phased. He took off in the night, tracking the bizarre scent of the runaway. He smelled leather and metal. He also smelled something that could not immediately place, but he knew he had been exposed to it before.

He was getting close. As he entered the wood-line into the thick forest behind the Argent's subdivision he found the end of the scent at a large oak tree. The smell rose up into it's low hanging branches. He shifted his red eyes to examine the area above him when he heard feet landing behind him. He swiftly turned, only to have a gunshot fire in his direction.

Before he could move his upper shoulder was shot into the tree behind him by what he could only assume was a harpoon. A loud bang blinded his vision—a flashbang grenade. He howled when another harpoon fired and hit his opposite shoulder, securing him in his place on the tree.

"How is it someone so dumb became an Alpha wolf?"

The voice was that of a woman's. It was soft, but he could tell she was mocking him. The pain from the harpoons began to shift throughout his entire body until eventually his fur receded, his fangs disappeared, and his red eyes cleared to their natural smoky blue. He clenched his jaw as his blinded vision cleared.

"Who are you?" Derek asked. He examined her somewhat short, hourglass build wrapped in tight leather. He took note of the guns hanging on her waist. In her hands she secured a small harpoon gun, obviously the source of what he thought was a gunshot earlier.

"A friend."

"Friends don't make threats to me."

"I didn't threaten you."

"If you threaten him, you threaten me." Derek began to pull himself off of the tree, dragging the shaft of the harpoon through his open wounds. She raised her gun and pointed between his eyes, the arrow-like tip of the next harpoon lightly pricked his brow.

"No, no," she grinned, "I don't want to have to shoot you again."

The moonlight from above broke free of its cloudy prison and illuminated her face. Derek's eyes widened to inspect the purple shimmer in her irises.

"What are you?"

She shook her head, "This is why I don't like Werewolves. You run around half-naked through the woods, howling and fighting anything in your way, and you have no idea about where you come from."

Derek insisted that he knew where he came from, but she pressed on that he didn't. He kept her talking long enough to examine her stance, and knew instantly where he could kick her to catapult her to the ground. He acted in a quick instant. He caught her off guard and sent her flying into the tree behind her. He slid off of the harpoons, roaring in pain as he did, and landed on the ground. She recovered quickly and fired again, narrowly missing him. Derek leapt forward to tackle her, but found himself suspended in midair. He struggled against an invisible force holding him prisoner a few feet off of the ground. When he examined his assailant, he saw her hand outstretched in his direction and her eyes were now almost completely purple.

"Now," she grinned, "are you done trying to kill me and ready to listen?"

He was bested, and it was not a position he liked to be in. He continued to struggle against his imperceptible trappings.

"My name Leah," she stepped closer to Derek and lifted him further off the ground, "Leah Stilinski."

X-X-X-X

Christmas Eve had arrived. Victoria arranged a large dinner in an effort to cheer everyone up and build rapport between all involved in the Fuoco disorder. It was an odd sight indeed, but she felt it needed to happen to add some layer of normalcy to their lives. A large, lavish dinner was served amidst their numerous and somewhat tacky Christmas decorations. Chris, Victoria, Allison, Terry, Scott, Melissa, Derek, Stiles, Sherriff Stilinski, Jackson, Danny, and Lydia all exchanged casual small talk in order to socialize to make Victoria's needs come to fruition. Everyone at least, except for Derek. He spent most of his time being drug around by Stiles, who also wanted things to get back to their version of normal.

Though the entire group would call the event a success, there were some very important issues each were left out on. They played a delicate dance of editing their conversations while each person moved around the room. The adults were in no way allowed to find out about the Mother, not until Dr. Deaton could give them a more concrete response to their concerns. Neither could the adults know about the capture of Gerard or the murder of the Council members, despite the fact it was only a matter of time until the Council wondered where their agents were.

Perhaps the hardest secret to keep in the room was Derek's. He had met Stiles' mother only a few nights before. Not only was he sworn to keep the fact she was still alive a secret, he also had another motive to keep quiet—the fact that Lydia's life depended on it.

X-X-X-X

_Chapter Eighteen_

"_Tourniquet"_

_Don't want to give too much away, but let's just say shit hits the fan. : )_


End file.
